TH6 


OF 


Grace  S ,  Richm  ond 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


THE  INDIFFERENCE  OF 
JULIET 


1  The  rich  voice  of  the  bishop  was  as  impressive  as  it  had  ever  been." 

(S«  page  77) 


The  Indifference 
of  Juliet 

By  GRACE  S.  RICHMOND 


Author  of 
"The  Second  Violin"    "The  Dixons 


With  Illustrations 
By  HENRY  HUTT 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,  j»   *    * 
jfi  *  PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


r 

Copyright, 

1902,1903,1904, 

by  The  Curtis 

[Publishing  Company 

Copyright,  1905,  by 

Doubleday,  Page 

&  Company 

Published, 
March,  1905 


AU  rights  reserved,  including  that  ttj 
translation — also  right  of  translation 
into  the  Scandinavian  langttagtt 


Co 
jFat&er  anD 


CONTENTS 


An  Audacious  Proposition 

Measurements 

Shopping  "With  a  Chaperon 

The  Cost  of  Frocks  . 

Muslins  and  Tackhammers 

A  Question  of  Identity     . 

An     Argument    Without 
Logic  .... 

On  Account  of  The  Tea-Kettle  . 

A  Bishop  and  a  Hay-Wagon 

On  a  Threshold  .... 

A  Bachelor  at  Dinner 

The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel    102 

Smoke  and  Talk 

Strawberries 

Anthony  Plays  Maid . 

A  House-Party — Outdoors 

Rachel  Causes  Anxiety 

An  Unknown  Quantity 

All  the  April  Stars  Are  Out 


90 


"5 

121 

137 

145 
15* 
'65 
176 


CONTENTS— Continued 


XX.  A  Prior  Claim      .... 

XXI.  Everybody  Gives  Advice 

XXII.  Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable  . 

XXIII.  Two  Not  of  a  Kind      . 

XXIV.  The  Careys  Are  at  Home     . 
XXV.  The  Robeson  Will 

XXVI.  On  Guard 

XXVII.  Lockwood  Pays  a  Call 

XXVIII.  A  High-Handed  Affair 

XXIX.  Juliet  Proves  Herself  Still  Indifferent 


PACI 

182 

192 

2O2 
217 

235 
248 
268 
284 
296 

305 


PRINCIPAL 


CHARACTERS 


HORATIO  MARCY,  an  elderly  New  Eng- 
lander  of  some  wealth. 

ANTHONY  ROBESON,  the  last  young  male 
representative  of  the  Kentucky 
ROBESONS,  now  making  his  own  way 
in  Massachusetts. 

WAYNE  CAREY,  Robeson's  former  college 
chum,  an  office  clerk  on  a  salary, 

DR.  ROGER  WILLIAMS  BARNES,  a  surgeon. 
Louis  LOCKWOOD,  an  attorney-at-law. 
STEVENS  CATHCART,  an  architect. 
MRS.  DINGLEY,  sister  of  Horatio  Marcy. 

JULIET  MARCY,  daughter  of  Horatio 
Marcy. 

JUDITH  DEARBORN,  Juliet's  friend  since 
school-days. 

SUZANNE  GERARD  >  other  friends  of 
MARIE  DRESSER     )  Juliet. 

RACHEL  REDDING,  a  poor  country  girl — 
of  education. 

MARY  Me  K AIM — in  the  background, 
but  valuable. 


THE  INDIFFERENCE  OF 
JULIET 


THE   INDIFFERENCE   OF  JULIET 

I. — AN  AUDACIOUS  PROPOSITION 

AITHONY  ROBESON  glanced  about 
him  in  a  satisfied  way  at  the 
shaded  nook  under  the  low-hang- 
ing boughs  into  which  he  had  guided  the 
boat.  Then  he  drew  in  his  oars  and  let 
the  little  craft  drift. 

"This  is  an  ideal  spot,"  said  he,  look- 
ing into  his  friend's  face,  "in  which  to 
tell  you  a  rather  interesting  piece  of 
news." 

"  Oh,  fine!  "  cried  his  friend,  settling  her- 
self among  the  cushions  in  the  stern  and 
tilting  back  her  parasol  so  that  the  light 
through  its  white  expanse  framed  her 
health-tinted  face  in  a  sort  of  glory.  "  Tell 
me  at  once.  I  suspected  you  came  with 
something  on  your  mind.  There  couldn't 
be  a  lovelier  place  on  the  river  than  this  for 
confidences.  But  I  can  guess  yours.  Tony, 
you've  found  '  her ' ! " 

"  And  you'll  be  my  friend  just  the  same  ? " 
3 


4  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

questioned  Anthony  anxiously.     "  My  chum 
—my  confidante?" 

"Oh,  well,  Tony,  that's  absurd,"  de- 
clared Juliet  Marcy  severely.  "As  if  she 
would  allow  it !  " 

"She's  three  thousand  miles  away." 

"I'm  ashamed  of  you! " 

"Just   in   the   interval,    then,"    pleaded 
Anthony.     "  I  need  you  now  worse  thanH 
ever.     For  I've  a  tremendous  responsibility 
on  my  hands.     The — the — you  know — is  to 
come  off  in  September,  and  this  is  June— 
and  I've  a  house  to  furnish.     Will  you  help 
me  do  it,  Juliet?" 

"  Anthony  Robeson!"  she  said  explosively 
under  her  breath,  with  a  laugh.  Then  she 
sat  up  and  leaned  forward  with  a  command- 
ing gesture.  :<  Tell  me  all  about  it.  What 
is  her  name  and  who  is  she?  Where  did 
you  meet  her?  Are  you  very  much— 

"  Would  I  marry  a  girl  if  I  were  not '  very 
much '  ? "  demanded  Anthony.  "  Well— I  '11 
tell  you — since  you  insist  on  these  non- 
essentials  before  you  really  come  down  to 
business.  Her  name  is  Eleanor  Langham, 
and  she  lives  in  San  Francisco.  Her  family 
is  old,  aristocratic,  wealthy — yet  she  con- 
descends to  me." 


An  Audacious  Proposition  5 

He  looked  up  keenly  into  her  eyes,  and 
her  brown  lashes  fell  for  an  instant  before 
something  in  his  glance,  but  she  said 
quickly:  "Goon." 

"When  the — affair — is  over  I  want  to 
bring  my  bride  straight  home,"  Anthony 
proceeded,  with  a  tinge  of  colour  in  his 
smooth,  clear  cheek.  "  I  shall  have  no 
vacation  to  speak  of  at  that  time  of  year, 
and  no  time  to  spend  in  furnishing  a  house. 
Yet  I  want  it  all  ready  for  her.  So  you  see 
I  need  a  friend.  I  shall  have  two  weeks  to 
spare  in  July,  and  if  you  would  help  me— 

"But,  Tony,"  she  interrupted,  "how 
could  I?  If — if  we  were  seen  shopping 
together " 

"  No,  we  couldn't  go  shopping  together 
in  New  York  without  being  liable  to  run 
into  a  wondering  crowd  of  friends,  of  course 
—not  in  the  places  where  you  would  want 
to  go.  But  here  you  are  only  a  couple  of 
hours  from  Boston;  you  will  be  here  all 
summer ;  you  and  Mrs.  Dingley  and  I  could 
run  into  Boston  for  a  day  at  a  time  without 
anybody's  being  the  wiser.  I  know — that 
is — I'm  confident  Mrs.  Dingley  would  do  it 
forme " 

"Oh,  of  course.     Did  Auntie  ever  deny 


6  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

you  anything  since  the  days  when  she  used 
to  give  you  jam  as  often  as  you  came  across 
to  play  with  me  ? " 

"Never." 

"Have  you  her  photograph?"  inquired 
Miss  Marcy  with  an  emphasis  which  left  no 
possible  doubt  as  to  whose  photograph  she 
meant. 

"  I  expected  that,"  said  Anthony  gravely. 
"  I  expected  it  even  sooner.  But  I  am  pre- 
pared." 

She  sat  watching  him  curiously  as  he 
slowly  drew  from  his  breast-pocket  a  tiny 
leather  case,  and  gazed  at  it  precisely  as  a 
lover  might  be  expected  to  gaze  at  his  lady's 
image  before  jealously  surrendering  it  into 
other  hands.  She  had  never  seen  Anthony 
Robeson  look  at  any  photograph  except  her 
own  with  just  that  expression.  She  had 
often  wondered  if  he  ever  would.  She 
had  recommended  this  course  of  procedure 
to  him  many  times,  usually  after  once  more 
gently  refusing  to  marry  him.  She  had 
begun  at  last  to  doubt  whether  it  would 
ever  be  possible  to  divert  Tony's  mind 
from  its  long-sought  object.  But  that  trip 
to  San  Francisco,  and  the  months  he  had 
spent  there  in  the  interests  of  the  firm  he 


An  Audacious  Proposition  7 

served,  had  evidently  brought  about  the 
desired  change.  She  had  not  seen  him 
since  his  return  until  to-day,  when  he  had 
run  up  into  the  country  where  was  the 
Marcy  summer  home,  to  tell  her,  as  she 
now  understood,  his  news  and  to  make  his 
somewhat  extraordinary  request. 

She  accepted  the  photograph  with  a 
smile,  and  studied  it  with  attention. 

"Oh,  but  isn't  she  pretty?"  she  cried 
warmly — and  generously,  for  she  was  think- 
ing as  she  looked  how  much  prettier  was 
Miss  Langham  than  Miss  Marcy. 

"Isn't  she?"  agreed  Anthony  with  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  Lovely.  What  eyes !  And  what  a  dear 
mouth!" 

"You're  right." 

"She  looks  clever,  too." 

"She  is." 

"How  tall  is  she?" 

"  About  up  to  my  shoulder." 

"  She's  little,  then." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  objected  Anthony, 
surveying  his  own  stalwart  length  of  limb. 
"A  girl  doesn't  have  to  be  a  dwarf  not  to  be 
on  a  level  with  me.  I  should  say  she  must 
be  somewhere  near  your  height." 


8  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  What  a  magnificent  dresser! " 

"  Is  she  ?  She  never  irritates  one  with  the 
fact." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  see.  And  she's  going  to 
marry  you.  Tony,  what  can  you  give  her  ? " 

"A  little  box  of  a  house,  one  maid- 
servant, an  occasional  trip  into  town,  four 
new  frocks  a  year — moderate  ones,  you 
know,  in  keeping  with  her  circumstances — 
and  my  name,"  replied  Anthony  com- 
posedly. 

"You  won't  let  her  live  in  town,  then?" 

"  Let  her!  Good  heavens,  what  sort  of  a 
place  could  I  give  her  in  town  on  my 
salary?  Now,  in  the  very  rural  suburb 
I've  picked  out  she  can  live  in  the  greatest 
comfort,  and  we  can  have  a  real  home — 
something  I  haven't  had  since  Dad  died 
and  the  old  home  and  the  money  and  all 
the  rest  of  it  went." 

His  face  was  grave  now,  and  he  was 
staring  down  into  the  water  as  if  he  saw 
there  both  what  he  had  lost  and  what  he 
hoped  to  gam. 

"Yes,"  said  Juliet  sympathetically, 
though  she  did  not  know  how  to  imagine 
the  girl  whose  photograph  she  held  in  the 
surroundings  Anthony  suggested.  Present- 


An  Audacious  Proposition  9 

ly  she  went  on  in  her  gentlest  tone:  "I'm 
not  saying  that  the  name  isn't  a  proud  one 
to  offer  her,  Tony — and  if  she  is  willing  to 
share  your  altered  fortunes  I've  no  doubt 
she  will  be  happy.  Along  with  your  name 
you'll  give  her  a  heart  worth  having." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Anthony  without 
looking  up. 

Miss  Marcy  coloured  slightly,  and  hast- 
ened to  supplement  this  speech  with 
another. 

"The  question  is — since  the  home  is  to 
be  hers — why  not  let  her  furnish  it?  Her 
tastes  and  mine  might  not  agree.  Be- 
sides  " 

"Well- 

"Why — you  know,  Tony,"  explained 
Juliet  in  some  confusion,  "  I  shouldn't  know 
how  to  be  economical." 

"  I'm  aware  that  you  haven't  been 
brought  up  on  the  most  economical  basis," 
Anthony  acknowledged  frankly.  "But  I'll 
take  care  of  my  funds,  no  matter  how  ex* 
travagant  you  are  inclined  to  be.  If  I  should 
hand  you  five  dollars  and  say,  '  Buy  a 
dining- table,'  you  could  do  it,  couldn't  you? 
You  couldn't  satisfy  your  ideals,  of  course, 
but  you  could  give  me  the  benefit  of  your 


io  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

discriminating  choice  within  the  five-dollar 
limit." 

Juliet  laughed,  but  in  her  eyes  there  grew 
nevertheless  a  look  of  doubt.  "Tony,"  she 
demanded,  "how  much  have  you  to  spend 
on  the  furnishing  of  that  house?" 

' '  Just  five  hundred  dollars , "  said  Anthony 
concisely.  "And  that  must  cover  the  repair- 
ing and  painting  of  the  outside.  Really,  Juliet, 
haven't  I  done  fairly  well  to  save  up  that 
and  the  cost  of  the  house  and  lot — for  a 
fellow  who  till  five  years  ago  never  did  a 
thing  for  himself  and  never  expected  to 
need  to?  Yes,  I  know — the  piano  in  your 
music-room  cost  twice  that,  and  so  did  the 
horses  you  drive,  and  a  very  few  of  your 
pretty  gowns  would  swallow  another  five. 
But  Mrs.  Anthony  Robeson  will  have  to 
chasten  her  ideas  a  trifle.  Do  you  know, 
Juliet — I  think  she  will — for  love  of  me?" 

He  was  smiling  at  his  own  audacious 
confidence.  Juliet  attempted  no  reply 
to  this  very  unanswerable  statement.  She 
studied  the  photograph  in  silence,  and 
he  lay  watching  her.  In  her  blue-and-white 
boating  suit  she  was  a  pleasant  object  to 
look  at. 

"Will  you  help  me?"  he  asked  again  at 

3605 


An   Audacious    Proposition  n 

length.     "I'm  more  anxious  than  I  can  tell 
you  to  have  everything  ready." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  fail  you,  Tony,  since 
you  really  wish  it,  though  I'm  very  sure 
you'll  find  me  a  poor  adviser.  But  you 
haven't  been  a  brother  to  me  since  the 
mud-pie  days  for  nothing,  and  if  I  can  help 
you  with  suggestions  as  to  colour  and  style 
I'll  be  glad  to.  Though  I  shall  all  the  while 
be  trying  to  live  up  to  this  photograph,  and 
that  will  be  a  little  hard  on  the  five-dollar- 
dining- table  scale." 

"  You've  only  to  look  out  that  everything 
is  in  good  taste,"  said  Anthony  quietly, 
"  and  that  you  can't  help  doing.  My  wife 
will  thank  you,  and  the  new  home  will  be 
sweet  to  her  because  of  you.  It  surely  will 
to  me." 


II. — MEASUREMENTS 

IT  was  on  the  first  day  of  Robeson's 
two- weeks'  July  vacation  that  he  came 
to  take  Juliet  Marcy  and  her  aunt,  Mrs. 
Dingley,  who  had  long  stood  to  her  in 
the  place  of  the  mother  she  had  early 
lost,  to  see  the  home  he  had  bought 
in  a  remote  suburb  of  a  great  city. 
It  was  a  three -hours'  journey  from 
the  Marcy  country  place,  but  he  had 
insisted  that  Juliet  could  not  furnish  the 
house  intelligently  until  she  had  studied 
it  in  detail. 

So  at  eleven  o'clock  of  a  hot  July  morning 
Miss  Marcy  found  herself  surveying  from 
the  roadway  a  small,  old-fashioned  white 
house,  with  green  blinds  shading  its  odd, 
small-paned  windows;  a  very  "box  of  a 
house,"  as  Anthony  had  said,  set  well  back 
from  the  quiet  street  and  surrounded  by 
untrimmed  trees  and  overgrown  shrubbery. 
The  whole  place  had  a  neglected  appearance. 
Even  the  luxuriant  climbing-rose,  which 
did  its  best  to  hide  the  worn  white  paint  of 

12 


Measurements  13 

the  house-front,  served  to  intensify  the  look 
of  decay. 

"Charming,  isn't  it?"  asked  Robeson 
with  the  air  of  the  delighted  proprietor. 
"Of  course  everything  looks  gone  to  seed, 
but  paint  and  a  lawn-mower  and  a  few  other 
things  will  make  another  place  of  it.  It's 
good  old  colonial,  that's  sure,  and  only 
needs  a  bit  of  fixing  up  to  be  quite  correct, 
architecturally,  small  as  it  is." 

He  led  the  way  up  the  weedy  path,  Mrs. 
Dingley  and  Juliet  exchanging  amused 
glances  behind  his  back.  He  opened  the 
doors  with  a  flourish  and  waved  the  ladies 
in.  They  entered  with  close-held  skirts  and 
noses  involuntarily  sniffing  at  the  musty  air. 
Anthony  ran  around  opening  windows  and 
explaining  the  "points"  of  the  house. 
When  they  had  been  over  it  Mrs.  Dingley, 
warm  and  weary,  subsided  upon  the  door- 
step, while  Juliet  and  Anthony  fell  to  dis- 
cussing the  possibilities  of  the  place. 

"You  see,"  said  Anthony,  mopping  his 
heated  brow,  "it  isn't  like  having  big,  high 
rooms  to  decorate.  These  little  rooms," 
—he  put  up  his  hand  and  succeeded,  from 
his  fine  height,  in  touching  the  ceiling  of 
the  lower  front  room  in  which  they  stood — 


14  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  won't  stand  anything  but  the  most  simple 
treatment,  and  expensive  papers  and  up- 
holsteries would  be  out  of  place.  It  will 
take  only  very  small  rugs  to  suit  the  floors. 
The  main  thing  for  you  to  think  of  will  be 
colours  and  effects.  You'll  find  five  hun- 
dred dollars  will  go  a  long  way,  even  after 
the  repairs  and  outside  painting  are  dis- 
posed of." 

He  looked  so  appealing  that  Juliet  could 
but  answer  heartily:  "  Yes,  I'm  sure  of  it. 
And  now,  Tony,  don't  you  think  you'd 
better  draw  a  plan  of  the  house,  putting  in 
all  the  measurements,  so  we  shall  know  just 
how  to  go  to  work?  And  I  will  go  around 
and  dream  a  while  in  each  room.  Give  me 
the  photograph,  you  devoted  lover,  so  I 
can  plan  things  to  suit  her." 

Anthony  laughed  and  put  his  hand  into 
his  breast-pocket.  But  he  drew  it  out 
empty. 

"Why— I've  left  it  behind,"  he  admitted 
in  some  embarrassment.  "  I  really  thought 
I  had  it." 

"  Oh,  Tony!  And  on  this  very  trip  when 
we  needed  it  most!  How  could  you  leave 
it  behind?  Don't  you  always  carry  it  next 
your  heart?" 


Measurements  15 

"Is  that  the  prescribed  place?" 

"  Certainly.  I  should  doubt  a  man's  love 
if  he  did  not  constantly  wear  my  likeness 
right  where  it  could  feel  his  heart  beating 
for  me." 

"Now  I  never  supposed,"  remarked  An- 
thony, considering  her  attentively,  "that 
you  had  so  much  romance  about  you.  Do 
you  realise  that  for  an  extremely  practical 
young  person  such  as  you  have — mostly- 
appeared  to  be,  that  is  a  particularly  senti- 
mental suggestion?  Er — should  you  wear 
his  in  the  same  way,  may  I  inquire?" 

"  Of  course,"  returned  Juliet  with  defiance 
in  her  eyes,  whose  lashes,  when  they  fell 
at  length  before  his  steadily  interested  gaze, 
swept  a  daintily  colouring  cheek. 

"Have  you  ever  worn  one?"  inquired 
this  hardy  young  man,  nothing  daunted 
by  these  signs  of  righteous  indignation. 
But  all  he  got  for  answer  was  a  vigorous: 

"You  absurd  boy!  Now  go  to  work  at 
your  measurements.  I'm  going  up-stairs. 
There's  one  room  up  there,  the  one  with  the 
gable  corners  and  the  little  bits  of  windows, 
that's  perfectly  fascinating.  It  must  be 
done  in  Delft  blue  and  white.  Since  I 
haven't  the  photograph" — she  turned  on  the 


16  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

threshold  to  smile  roguishly  back  at  him — 
"  memory  must  serve.  Beautiful  dark  hair; 
eyes  like  a  Madonna's;  a  perfect  nose;  the 
dearest  mouth  in  the  world — oh,  yes " 

She  vanished  around  the  corner  only  to 
put  her  head  in  again  with  the  air  of  one  who 
fires  a  parting  shot  at  a  discomfited  enemy : 
"But,  Tony — do  you  honestly  think  the 
house  is  large  enough  for  such  a  queen  of 
a  woman?  Won't  her  throne  take  up  the 
whole  of  the  first  floor?" 

Then  she  was  gone  up  the  diminutive 
staircase,  and  her  light  footsteps  could  be 
heard  on  the  bare  floors  overhead.  Left 
alone,  Anthony  Robeson  stood  still  for  a 
moment  looking  fixedly  at  the  door  by 
which  she  had  gone.  The  smile  with 
which  he  had  answered  her  gay  fling  had 
faded;  his  eyes  had  grown  dark  with  a 
singular  fire ;  his  hands  were  clenched.  Sud- 
denly he  strode  across  the  floor  and  stopped 
by  the  door.  He  was  looking  down  at  the 
quaint  old  latch  which  served  instead  of 
a  knob.  Then,  with  a  glance  at  the  uncon- 
scious back  of  Mrs.  Dingley,  sitting  sleepily 
on  the  little  porch  outside,  he  stooped  and 
pressed  his  lips  upon  the  iron  where  Juliet's 
hand  had  lain. 


III. — SHOPPING  WITH  A  CHAPERON 

"FIVE  hundred  dollars,"  mused  Miss 
Marcy,  on  the  Boston  train  next  morning. 
"  Six  rooms — living-room,  dining-room, 
kitchen,  and  three  bedrooms.  That's 

;'  You  forget,"  warned  Anthony  Robeson 
from  the  seat  where  he  faced  Juliet  and 
Mrs.  Dingley.  "  That  must  cover  the  out- 
side painting  and  repairs.  You  can't  figure 
on  having  more  than  three  hundred  dollars 
left  for  the  inside." 

"Dear  me,  yes,"  frowned  Juliet.  She 
held  Anthony's  plan  in  her  hand,  and  her 
tablets  and  pencil  lay  in  her  lap.  "Well, 
I  can  spend  fifty  dollars  on  each  room — 
only  some  will  need  more  than  others.  The 
living-room  will  take  the  most — no,  the 
dining-room." 

"The  kitchen  will  take  the  most,"  sug- 
gested Mrs.  Dingley.  "  Your  range  will  use 
up  the  most  of  your  fifty.  And  kitchen 
utensils  count  up  very  rapidly." 

"  It  will  be  a  very  small  range,"  Anthony 
said.  "A  little  toy  stove  would  be  more 

17 


i8  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

practical  for  our — the  kitchen.  How  big  is 
it,  Juliet?" 

"  '  Ten  by  fourteen,'  "  read  Juliet.  "  From 
the  centre  of  the  room  you  can  hit  all  the 
side  walls  with  the  broom.  Speaking  of 
walls,  Tony — those  must  be  our  first  con- 
sideration. If  we  get  our  colour  scheme 
right  everything  else  will  follow.  I  have 
it  all  in  my  head." 

So  it  proved.  But  it  also  proved,  when 
they  had  been  hard  at  work  for  an  hour  at 
a  well-known  decorator's,  that  the  tints 
and  designs  for  which  Miss  Marcy  asked 
were  not  readily  to  be  found  in  the  low- 
priced  wall  -  papers  to  which  Anthony 
rigidly  held  her. 

"  I  must  have  the  softest,  most  restful 
greens  for  the  living-room,"  she  announced. 
"  There— that- 

"But  that  is  a  dollar  a  roll,"  whispered 
Anthony. 

"Then— that!" 

"Eighty-five  cents." 

"  But  for  that  little  room,  Tony- 

"  Twenty-five  cents  a  roll  is  all  we  can 
allow,"  insisted  Anthony  firmly.  "And 
less  than  that  everywhere  else." 

The   salesman   was   very   obliging,    and 


Shopping  With  a  Chaperon  19 

showed  the  best  things  possible  for  the 
money.  It  was  impossible  to  resist  the 
appeal  in  the  eyes  of  this  critical  but  re- 
stricted young  buyer. 

"  There,  that  will  do,  I  think,"  said  Juliet 
at  length,  with  a  long  breath.  "  The  green 
for  the  living-room  and  for  the  bit  of  a  hall — • 
No,  no,  Tony;  I've  just  thought!  You 
must  take  away  that  little  partition  and  let 
the  stairs  go  up  out  of  the  living-room. 
That  will  improve  the  apparent  size  of 
things  wonderfully." 

"All  right,"  agreed  Anthony  obediently. 

"Then  we'll  put  that  rich  red  in  the 
dining-room.  For  upstairs  there  is  the 
tiny  rose  pattern,  and  the  Delft  blue,  and 
that  little  pale  yellow  and  white  stripe. 
In  the  kitchen  we'll  have  the  tile  pattern. 
We  won't  have  a  border  anywhere — the 
rooms  are  too  low;  just  those  simplest 
mouldings,  and  the  ivory  white  on  the  ceil- 
ings. The  woodwork  must  all  be  white. 
There  now,  that's  settled.  Next  come  the 
floors." 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  Juliet  was 
becoming  interested  in  her  task.  Though 
the  July  heat  was  intense  she  led  the  way 
with  rapid  steps  to  the  place  where  she 


20  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

meant  to  select  her  rugs.  Here  the  three 
spent  a  trying  two  hours.  It  was  hard  to 
please  Miss  Marcy  with  Japanese  jute  rugs, 
satisfactory  in  colouring  though  many  of 
them  were,  when  she  longed  to  buy  Persian 
pieces  of  distinction.  If  Juliet  had  a 
special  weakness  it  was  for  choice  antique 
rugs. 

She  cornered  Anthony  at  last,  while  Mrs. 
Dingley  and  the  salesman  were  politely  but 
unequivocally  disputing  over  the  quality 
of  a  certain  piece  of  Chinese  weaving. 

"Tony,"  she  begged,"  please  let  me  get 
that  one  dear  Turkish  square  for  the  living- 
room.  It  will  give  character  to  the  whole 
room,  and  the  colours  are  perfectly  ex- 
quisite. I  simply  can't  get  one  of  those 
cheap  things  to  go  in  front  of  that  beau- 
tiful old  fireplace.  Imagine  the  firelight 
on  that  square ;  it  would  make  you  want  to 
spend  your  evenings  at  home.  Please!" 

"  Do  you  imagine  that  I  shall  ever  want 
to  spend  them  anywhere  else?"  asked 
Tony  softly,  looking  down  into  her  appeal- 
ing face.  "  Why,  chum,  I'd  like  to  get  that 
Tabriz  you  admire  so  much,  if  it  would 
please  you,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  we 
should  have  to  pull  the  whole  house  up 


Shopping  With  a  Chaperon  21 

forty  notches  to  match  it.  But  even  the 
Turkish  square  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  But,  Tony  "•  -Juliet  was  whispering  now 
with  her  head  a  little  bent  and  her  eyes 
on  the  lapel  of  his  coat—  •"  won't  you  let  me 
do  it  as  my — my  contribution?  I'd  like  to 
put  something  of  my  own  into  your  house." 

"  You  dear  little  girl,"  Anthony  answered 
—and  possibly  for  her  own  peace  of  mind 
it  was  fortunate  that  Miss  Langham,  of 
California,  could  not  see  the  look  with 
which  he  regarded  Miss  Marcy,  of  Massa- 
chusetts— •"  I'm  sure  you  would.  And  you 
are  putting  into  it  just  what  is  priceless  to 
me — your  individuality  and  your  perfect 
taste.  But  I  can't  let  even  you  help  furnish 
that  house.  She — must  take  what  I — and 
only  I — can  give  her." 

"You're  perfectly  ridiculous,"  murmured 
Juliet,  turning  away  with  an  expression  of 
deep  displeasure.  "  As  if  she  wouldn't  bring 
all  sorts  of  elegant  stuff  with  her,  and  make 
your  cheap  things  look  insignificant." 

"I  don't  think  she  will,"  returned  An- 
thony with  conviction.  "  She'll  bring  noth- 
ing out  of  keeping  with  the  house." 

"  I  thought  you  told  me  she  was  of  a 
wealthy  family." 


22  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  She  is.  But  if  she  marries  me  she  leaves 
all  that  behind.  I'll  have  no  wife  on  any 
other  basis." 

"Well — for  a  son  of  the  Robesons  of 
Kentucky  you  are  absolutely  the  most 
^absurd  boy  anybody  ever  heard  of,"  de- 
clared the  girl  hotly  under  her  breath.  Then 
she  walked  over  and  ordered  a  certain  in- 
expensive rug  for  the  living-room  with  the 
air  of  a  princess  and  the  cheeks  of  a  poppy. 


IV. — THE  COST  OF  FROCKS 

IT  may  have  been  that  Miss  Marcy  was 
piqued  into  trying  to  see  how  little  she 
could  spend,  but  certain  it  was  that  from 
the  time  she  left  the  carpet  shop  she  begged 
for  no  exceptions  to  Mr.  Robeson's  rule  of 
strict  economy.  She  selected  simple,  deli- 
cate muslins  for  the  windows,  one  and  all, 
without  a  glance  at  finer  draperies;  bought 
denims  and  printed  stuffs  as  if  she  had  never 
heard  of  costlier  upholsteries;  and  turned 
away  from  seductive  pieces  of  Turkish  and 
Indian  embroideries  offered  for  her  inspec- 
tion with  a  demure,  "  No,  I  don't  care  to 
look  at  those  now,"  which  more  than  once 
brought  a  covert  smile  to  Anthony's  lips 
and  a  twinkle  to  the  eyes  of  the  salesman. 
It  was  so  very  evident  that  the  fair  buyer 
did  not  pass  them  by  for  lack  of  interest. 

Altogether,  it  was  an  interesting  week 
these  three  people  spent — for  a  week  it 
took.  Anthony  began  to  protest  after  the 
first  two  days,  and  said  he  could  not  ask  so 


24  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

much  of  his  friends.  But  Juliet  would  not 
be  hindered  from  taking  infinite  pains,  and 
Mrs.  Dingley  good  humouredly  lent  the  two 
her  chaperonage  and  her  occasional  counsel, 
such  as  only  the  gray-haired  matron  of  long 
housewifely  experience  can  furnish. 

The  selection  of  the  furniture  took  per- 
haps the  most  time,  and  was  the  hardest, 
because  of  the  difficulty  of  finding  good 
styles  in  keeping  with  the  limited  purse. 
Anthony  possessed  a  number  of  good  pieces 
of  antique  character,  but  beyond  these 
everything  was  to  be  purchased.  Juliet 
turned  in  despair  from  one  shop  after 
another,  and  when  it  came  to  the  fitting 
of  the  dining-room  she  grew  distinctly 
indignant. 

"It's  a  perfect  shame,"  she  said,  "that 
they  can't  offer  really  good  designs  in  the 
cheap  things.  Did  you  ever  see  anything 
so  hideous?  Tony,  if  I  were  you  I'd  rather 
eat  my  breakfast  off  one  of  those  white 
kitchen  tables — or " 

She  broke  off  suddenly,  rushed  away 
down  the  long  room  to  a  group  of  chastely 
elegant  dining-room  furniture  and  came 
back  after  a  little  with  a  face  of  great  eager- 
ness to  drag  her  companions  away  with  her. 


The  Cost  of  Frocks  25 

She  took  them  to  survey  a  set  of  the  costliest 
of  all. 

"Have  you  gone  crazy?"  Anthony  in- 
quired. 

"  Not  at  all.  Tony,  just  study  that  table. 
It's  massive,  but  it's  simple — simple  as 
beauty  always  is.  Look  at  those  perfectly 
straight  legs — what  clever  cabinet  maker 
couldn't  copy  that  in — in  ash,  Tony  ?  Then 
there  are  stains — I've  heard  of  them — that 
rub  into  wood  and  then  finish  in  some  way 
so  it's  smooth  and  satiny.  You  could  do 
that — I'm  sure  you  could.  Then  you'd  get 
the  lovely  big  top  you  want.  And  the 
chairs — do  you  see  the  plain,  solid-looking 
things?  I  know  they  could  be  made  this 
way.  Then  the  dining  -  room  would  be 
simply  dear!" 

"Juliet,  you're  coming  on,"  declared 
Anthony  with  satisfaction  that  evening  as 
the  two,  back  at  the  Marcy  country  place, 
strolled  slowly  over  the  lawn  toward  the 
river  edge.  "At  this  rate  you'll  do  for  a 
poor  man's  wife  yourself  some  day.  That 
frock  you  have  on  now — isn't  that  a  sort  of 
concession  to  the  humble  company  you're 
ia?" 


a6  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"In  what  way?"  Juliet  glanced  down  at 
the  pale-green  gown  whose  delicate  skirts 
she  was  daintily  lifting,  and  in  which  she 
looked  like  a  flower  in  its  calyx.  She  had 
rejoiced  to  exchange  the  dusty  dress  in 
which  she  had  come  home  from  town  for 
this,  which  suggested  coolness  in  each  fresh 
fold. 

"  Why,  it  strikes  me  as  about  the  simplest 
dress  I  ever  saw  you  wear.  Isn't  it  really 
— well — the  least  expensive  thing  you  have 
had  in  that  line  in  some  time? " 

The  amused  laugh  with  which  this  obser- 
vation was  greeted  might  have  been  dis- 
concerting to  anybody  but  Anthony  Robe- 
son,  but  he  maintained  his  ground  with 
calmness. 

"How  many  of  these  do  you  think  you 
can  furnish  Mrs.  Anthony  with  in  a  year?" 
Juliet  inquired,  her  lips  forcing  themselves 
to  soberness,  but  the  laughter  lingering  in 
her  eyes. 

"Several,  as  girlishly  demure  as  that,  I 
fancy,"  asserted  the  young  man  with  con- 
fidence. 

But  Juliet's  momentary  gravity  broke 
down.  "Oh,  you  clever  boy!"  she  said- 
"  I  shall  advise  Mrs.  Anthony  to  send  you 


The  Cost  of   Frocks  27 

shopping  for  her  when  she  needs  a  new 
frock.  You  will  order  home  just  what  she 
wants  without  stopping  to  ask  the  price, 
you  will  be  so  confident  that  you  know  a 
cheap  thing  when  you  see  it.  Afterward 
you  will  pay  the  bill — and  then  the  awful 
frown  on  your  brow!  You  will  have  to 
live  on  bread  and  milk  for  a  month  to  get 
your  accounts  straightened  out.  Oh,  Tony ! 
—No,  I  shouldn't  do  for  a  poor  man's 
wife — not  judging  by  this  '  girlishly  demure ' 
gown,  you  poor  lamb. — But,  Tony,"  with 
a  swift  change  of  manner,  "  I  do  think  the 
little  house  will  be  very  charming  indeed. 
I  can  hardly  wait  to  know  that  the  painting 
and  papering  are  done,  so  that  we  can  go 
down  and  get  things  in  order.  I  long  to 
arrange  those  fascinating  new  tin  things 
in  that  bit  of  a  cupboard.  Tony"; — turn- 
ing to  him  solemnly — "  does  she  know  how 
to  cook?" 

"  I  think  she  is  learning  now,"  he  assured 
her.  "Seems  to  me  she  mentioned  it  in 
to-day's—  He  fumbled  in  his  breast- 

pocket and  brought  out  a  letter. 

Juliet  stole  an  interested  glance  at  it. 
She  observed  that  there  were  three  closely 
written  sheets  of  the  heavy  linen  paper, 


28  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

and  that  the  handwriting  was  one  suggestive 
of  a  pleasing  individuality.  Anthony,  in 
the  dim  twilight,  was  scanning  page  after 
page  in  a  lover's  absorbed  way.  Juliet 
walked  along  by  his  side  in  silence.  She 
was  thinking  of  the  face  in  the  photograph, 
and  wondering  if  Miss  Eleanor  Langham 
really  loved  Anthony  Robeson  as  he  de- 
served to  be  loved. 

"For  he  is  a  dear,  dear  fellow,"  she  said 
to  herself,  "and  if  she  could  just  see  him 
planning  so  enthusiastically  for  her  com- 
fort, even  if  he  does  have  to  economise, 
she'd- 

"No,  it's  not  in  this  letter,"  observed 
Anthony,  putting  the  sheets  together  with 
a  lingering  touch  which  did  not  escape 
his  companion's  quick  eyes.  "  It  must 
have  been  in  yesterday's." 

"  Does  she  write  every  day  ? " 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  an  engaged  pair 
who  didn't  write  every  day?" 

"  It  must  take  a  good  deal  of  your  time," 
she  remarked.  "  But,  of  course,  she  can 
cook.  Every  sane  girl  takes  a  cooking- 
school  course  nowadays.  It's  as  essential 
as  French." 

"You  did,  then?" 


The  Cost  of  Frocks 


29 


"  Of  course.  Don't  you  remember  when 
I  used  to  edify  you  with  new  and  wonderful 
dishes  every  time  you  dropped  in  to 
luncheon  ? "  , 

"  But  did  you  learn  the  more  important 
things?" 

"I  paid  especial  attention  to  soups,  sir," 
laughed  Juliet.  "Now,  if  Mrs.  Anthony 
has  done  that  you  can  live  very  econom- 
ically." 

"I'll  suggest  it  to  her,"  said  Anthony 
gravely. 


V. — MUSLINS  AND  TACKHAMMERS 

It  took  several  trips  to  the  small  house, 
and  a  great  deal  of  hemming  and  ruffling  of 
muslin  on  the  part  of  Juliet  and  the  Marcy 
sewing- woman,  to  say  nothing  of  many 
days  of  Anthony's  hard  labour,  to  get 
everything  in  place.  But  it  was  all  done 
at  length,  and  the  hour  arrived  to  close  the 
new  home  and  leave  it  to  wait  the  oncoming 
day  in  September  when  it  should  be  per- 
manently opened. 

"I'll  just  go  over  it  once  more,"  said 
Juliet  to  Mrs.  Dingley.  The  latter  lady 
was  lying  in  a  hammock  out  under  the 
apple  trees,  waiting  for  train  time  and  her 
final  release  from  duties  which  were  becom- 
ing decidedly  wearisome.  It  was  the  first 
day  of  August,  and  the  evening  was  a 
warm  one.  Anthony  had  gone  off  upon 
a  last  errand  of  some  sort.  Mrs.  Dingley 
was  too  exhausted  to  offer  to  accompany 
her  niece,  and  Juliet  ran  back  into  the 
house  alone.  She  wandered  slowly  through 
the  rooms,  looking  about  to  see  if  there 

30 


Muslins  and  Tackhammers  31 

might  be  any  perfecting  touch  which  she 
could  add. 

It  was  a  charming  place ;  even  a  daughter 
of  the  house  of  Marcy  could  but  own  to 
that.  Under  her  skilful  management  the 
little  rooms  had  blossomed  into  a  fresh, 
satisfying  beauty  that  needed  only  the 
addition  of  the  personal  adornment  which 
Anthony's  bride  would  be  sure  to  bring,  to 
become  a  home — the  home  not  only  of  a 
poor  man  but  of  a  refined  and  cultured  one 
as  well.  Restricted  though  she  had  been 
to  the  most  inexpensive  means  of  bringing 
about  this  happy  result,  Juliet  had  made 
them  all  tell  toward  an  effect  of  great 
harmony  and  beauty.  Perhaps  to  nobody 
was  this  more  of  a  revelation  than  to  the 
girl  herself. 

She  was  very  proud  of  the  living-room,  as 
she  looked  about  it.  The  partition  between 
it  and  the  tiny  hall  had  been  removed,  ac- 
cording to  her  suggestion,  and  the  straight 
staircase  altered  by  means  of  a  landing  and 
an  abrupt  turn  which  transformed  it  into 
picturesqueness.  With  its  low,  broad  steps, 
its  slender  spindles  and  odd  posts,  it  added 
much  to  the  character  of  the  room. 

Like  most  old  New  England  houses,  this 


32  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

one's  chief  glory  was  its  great  central 
chimney,  with  big  fireplaces  opening  both 
into  the  living-room  and  the  dining-room. 
In  the  former,  between  the  fireplace  and  the 
staircase,  and  forming  a  suggestion  of  an 
inglenook,  Juliet  had  contrived  a  high,  wide 
seat,  cushioned  in  dull  green,  and  boasting 
a  number  of  pretty  pillows.  It  must  be 
confessed  that  she  had  surreptitiously  added 
a  little  to  these  in  the  matter  of  certain 
modestly  rich  bits  of  material,  and  she 
contemplated  the  result  with  great  satis- 
faction. It  may  be  remarked,  with  no 
comment  whatever,  that  in  spite  of  their 
beauty  there  was  not  a  pillow  of  all  those 
scattered  about  the  house  which  a  weary 
man  might  not  tuck  under  his  head  without 
fear  of  ruining  a  creation  too  delicate  for 
any  use  but  to  be  admired. 

Having  seized  upon  the  idea  of  staining 
cheap  material,  she  had  carried  it  out  in  a 
set  of  low  book-cases  across  the  end  and 
one  side  of  the  room.  These  awaited  the 
coming  of  the  several  hundreds  of  choice 
books  which  Anthony  had  saved  from  his 
father's  library.  Two  fine  old  portraits, 
dear  to  the  hearts  of  many  generations  of 
the  "Robesons  of  Kentucky,"  lent  dis- 


Muslins  and  Tackhammers  33- 

tinction  to  the  home  of  their  young  de- 
scendant. Altogether  the  room  was  both 
quaint  and  artistic,  and  with  its  few  plain 
chairs  and  tables,  mostly  heirlooms,  and  all 
of  good  old  colonial  design,  was  a  room  in 
which  one  could  readily  imagine  one's  self 
sitting  down  to  a  winter  evening  of  cosy 
comfort,  such  as  is  not  always  to  be  had 
in  far  finer  abiding-places. 

The  dining-room  was  a  study  in  its  reds 
and  browns,  and  its  home-made  furniture 
was  an  astonishing  success — if  one  were 
not  too  severely  critical.  As  she  surveyed 
it  Juliet  seemed  to  see  the  future  master 
and  mistress  of  this  little  home  sitting  down 
opposite  each  other  in  the  fireglow,  and 
smiling  across. 

The  coming  Mrs.  Robeson,  if  one  might 
judge  by  her  photograph,  was  a  woman 
to  lend  grace  and  dignity  to  her  surround- 
ings, whatever  they  might  be.  Juliet  could 
imagine  her  pretty,  stately  way  of  presiding 
at  such  small  feasts  as  the  room  was  des- 
tined to  see,  making  her  guests  quite  for- 
get that  she  was  not  mistress  of  a  mansion 
equal  to  any  in  the  land.  Would  she  be 
happy?  Could  she  be  happy  here,  after 
all  that  she  had  had  of  another  and  very 


34  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

different  sort  of  life?  For  some  reason,  as 
Juliet  stood  and  looked  and  thought,  her 
face  grew  very  sober,  and  a  long-drawn 
breath  escaped  her  lips. 

The  little  kitchen  was  an  exceedingly 
alluring  place,  gay  in  the  bravery  of  fresh 
paint  and  spotless,  shining  utensils.  There 
were  even  crisp  curtains — at  eight  cents  a 
yard — tied  back  at  the  high,  wide-silled, 
triple  window  with  its  diminutive  panes. 
It  needed  only  a  pot  or  two  of  growing 
plants  in  the  window,  and  a  neat-handed 
Phyllis  in  a  figured  gown,  to  be  the  old- 
time  kitchen  of  one's  dreams. 

But  it  was  upon  the  rooms  on  the  upper 
floor  that  Juliet  had  exhausted  her  imagina- 
tion and  effort.  Nothing  could  have  been 
conceived  of  more  dainty  than  they.  Here 
her  denims  and  muslins  had  run  riot.  Low 
dressing-tables  clad  in  ruffled  hangings, 
their  padded  tops  delicate  with  the  breath 
of  orris;  beds  valanced  with  similar  stuffs; 
high-backed  chairs,  their  seats  cushioned 
into  comfort — everything  was  done  in  the 
cleverest  imitation  of  the  ancient  styles  in 
keeping  with  the  old-fashioned  house.  It 
all  made  one  think  of  the  patter  of  high- 
heeled,  buckled  slippers,  and  stiff,  rustling, 


Muslins  and  Tackhammers  35 

brocaded  gowns,  and  powdered  hair,  and 
the  odours  of  long  ago.  Anthony  would 
never  know  what  his  friendly  home-maker 
had  put  into  these  rooms  of  sentiment  and 
charm. 


VI. — A  QUESTION  OF  IDENTITY 

AT  the  door  of  the  blue-and-white  room, 
the  one  upon  which  the  girl  had  lavished  her 
most  tender  fancies,  she  stood  at  length, 
looking  in.  And  as  she  looked  something 
swam  before  her  eyes.  A  sob  rose  in  her 
throat.  She  choked  it  back;  she  brushed 
her  hand  across  her  face.  Then  she  tried 
to  laugh.  "Oh,  what  a  goose  I  am!"  she 
said  sternly  to  herself.  And  then  she  ran 
across  the  room,  sank  upon  her  knees  before 
the  window-seat  with  its  blue  and  white 
cushions,  and  burying  her  face  in  one  of 
them  cried  her  wretched,  jealous,  longing 
heart  out. 

Anthony,  coming  in  hastily  but  softly 
through  the  small  kitchen,  heard  the  rush 
of  footsteps  overhead,  and  stopped.  He 
waited  a  moment,  listening  eagerly;  then 
he  came  noiselessly  into  the  living-room  and 
stood  still.  His  face,  always  strong  and 
somewhat  stern  in  its  repose,  had  in  it  to- 
night a  certain  unusual  intensity.  He 

36 


A  Question  of  Identity  37 

looked  at  his  watch  and  saw  that  there  was 
an  hour  before  train  time.  Then  he  sat 
down  where  he  could  see  the  top  of  the 
staircase  and  waited. 

By  and  by  light  footsteps  crossed  the 
floor  above  and  came  through  the  little 
hall.  From  where  he  sat  Anthony  caught 
the  gleam  of  Juliet's  crisp  linen  skirt. 
Presently  she  came  slowly  down.  As  she 
turned  upon  the  landing  she  met  Anthony's 
eyes  looking  up.  In  a  fashion  quite  un- 
usual to  the  straightforward  gaze  of  his 
friend  her  eyes  fell.  He  saw  that  her 
cheeks  were  pale.  He  rose  to  meet  her. 

"Come  and  rest,"  he  said.  "You  are 
tired.  You  have  worked  too  hard.  Such 
a  helper  a  man  never  had  before.  And 
you  have  made  a  wonderful  success.  Juliet, 
I  can't  thank  you.  It's  beyond  that." 

But  she  would  not  be  led  to  the  cosy 
corner  by  the  window.  She  found  some- 
thing needing  her  attention  in  the  curtain 
of  the  bookcase  in  the  dimmest  corner  of 
the  room,  and  began  solicitously  to  pull  it  in 
various  ways,  as  if  there  were  something 
wrong  with  it.  He  watched  her,  standing 
with  his  arm  on  the  high  chimney-piece. 

"  I  think  you  enjoyed  it  just  a  little  bit 


38  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

yourself,  though,"  he  observed.     "Didn't 
you,  chum?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Juliet. 

Her  back  was  toward  him,  her  head  bent 
down,  but  his  quick  ear  detected  a  peculiar 
quality  in  her  voice.  He  questioned  her 
again  hurriedly. 

"  You're  not  sorry  you  did  it? " 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Juliet. 

Now  there  is  not  much  in  two  such 
simple  replies  as  these  to  indicate  the  state 
of  one's  mind  and  heart;  but  when  a  girl 
has  been  crying  stormily  and  uninter- 
ruptedly for  a  half-hour,  and  is  only  not 
crying  still  because  she  is  holding  back  the 
torrent  of  her  unhappiness  by  sheer  force  of 
will,  it  is  radically  impossible  to  say  so 
much  as  four  words  in  a  perfectly  natural 
way.  Anthony  understood  in  a  breath 
that  the  unfamiliar  note  in  his  friend's 
voice  was  that  of  tears.  And,  strange  to 
say,  into  his  face  there  flashed  a  look  of 
triumph.  But  he  only  said  very  gently : 

"Come  here  a  minute — will  you,  Juliet?" 

She  bent  lower  over  the  curtain.  Then 
she  stood  up,  without  looking  at  him,  and 
moved  toward  the  door. 

"  I  believe  I'm  rather  tired,"  she  said  in 


A  Question  of  Identity  39 

a  low  tone.  "  It  has  been  so  warm  all  day, 
and  I — I  have  a  headache." 

In  three  steps  he  came  after  her,  stopping 
her  with  his  hand  grasping  hers  as  she  would 
have  left  the  room. 

"  Come  back — please,"  he  urged.  "  Your 
aunt  is  asleep  out  there,  I  think.  I  wanted 
to  go  over  the  house  once  more  with  you,  if 
you  would.  But  you're  too  tired  for  that. 
Just  come  back  and  sit  down  in  this  nook 
of  yours,  and  let's  talk  a  little." 

She  could  not  well  refuse,  and  he  put  her 
into  a  nest  of  cushions,  arranging  them 
carefully  behind  her  back  and  head,  and 
sat  down  facing  her.  He  had  placed  her 
just  where  the  waning  [light  from  the 
western  sky  fell  full  on  her  face;  his  own 
was  in  the  shadow.  He  was  watching  her 
unmercifully — she  felt  that,  and  desperately 
turned  her  face  aside,  burying  in  a  friendly 
pillow  the  cheek  which  was  colouring  under 
his  gaze. 

"Is  the  headache  so  bad?"  he  asked 
softly.  "  I  never  knew  Juliet  Marcy  to 
have  a  headache  before.  Poor  little  girl — 
dear  little  girl — who  has  worked  so  hard 
to  please  her  old  friend."  He  leaned  for- 
ward and  she  felt  his  hand  upon  her  hair. 


4O  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

The  tenderness  in  his  voice  and  touch  were 
carrying  away  all  her  defences.  But  he 
went  on  without  giving  her  respite. 

"  Do  you  think  she  will  be  happy  here, 
chum?  Will  it  take  the  place  of  the  old 
life  for  a  few  years,  till  I  can  give  her  more  ? 
She'll  have  nothing  here,  you  know,  outside 
of  this  little  home,  but  my  love.  That 
wouldn't  be  enough  for  any  ordinary 
woman,  would  it?" 

She  was  not  looking  at  him,  but  she  could 
see  him  as  plainly  as  if  she  were.  Always 
she  had  thought  him  the  strongest,  best 
fellow  she  knew.  He  had  been  her  devoted 
friend  so  long;  she  had  not  realised  in  the 
least  until  lately  how  it  was  going  to  seem 
to  get  on  without  him.  But  she  knew  now. 

She  felt  a  dreadful  choking  in  her  throat 
again.  It  seemed  to  be  closely  connected 
with  another  peculiar  sensation,  as  if  her 
heart  had  turned  into  a  lump  of  lead.  In 
another  minute  she  knew  that  she  should 
break  down,  which  would  be  humiliating 
beyond  words.  She  started  up  from  her 
cushions  with  a  fierce  attempt  to  keep  a 
grip  upon  herself. 

"  I  know  you're  very  happy,"  she 
breathed,  "and  I'm  very  glad.  But  really 


A  Question  of  Identity  41 

I — I'm  not  at  all  sentimental  to-night. 
I'm  afraid  a  headache  does  not  make 
one  sympathetic." 

But  she  could  not  get  past  him ;  Anthony's 
stalwart  figure  barred  the  way.  His  strong 
hands  put  her  gently  back  among  the 
cushions.  She  turned  her  head  away,  fight- 
ing hard  for  that  thing  she  could  not  keep — 
her  self-control. 

''Is  it  really  a  headache? "  asked  the  low 
voice  in  her  ear.  "Just  a  headache?  Not 
by  any  chance — a  heartache,  Juliet?" 

"Anthony  Robeson!"  she  cried,  but 
guardedly,  lest  the  open  window  betray 
her.  "  What  do  you  mean?  You  say  very 
strange  things.  Why  should  I  have  a 
heartache?  Because  you  are  marrying  the 
girl  you  love?  How  often  have  I  begged 
you  to  go  and  find  her?  Do  you  think  I 
would  have  done  all  this  for  her — and  you— 
if  I  had  cared?" 

She  tried  to  look  defiantly  into  his  eyes— 
those  fine  eyes  of  his  which  were  watching 
her  so  intently — tried  to  meet  them  steadily 
with  her  own  lovely,  tear-stained  ones — and 
failed.  Swiftly  an  intense  colour  dyed  her 
cheeks,  and  she  dropped  her  head  like  a 
guilty  child. 


42  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Of  course  I  care — that  is,  in  a  way," 
she  was  somehow  forced  to  admit  before 
the  bar  of  his  silence.  "  Why  shouldn't  I 
hate  to  lose  the  friend  who  used  to  carry  my 
books  to  school,  and  fought  the  other  boys 
for  my  sake,  and  has  been  a  brother  to  me 
all  these  years?  Of  course  I  do.  And 
when  I  am  tired  I  cry  for  nothing — just 
nothing.  I— 

It  was  certainly  a  brave  attempt  at 
eloquence,  but  perhaps  it  was  not  wonder- 
fully convincing.  At  all  events  it  did  not 
keep  Anthony  from  taking  possession  of 
one  of  her  hands  and  interrupting  her  with 
a  most  irrelevant  speech. 

"Juliet,  do  you  remember  telling  me 
that  you  should  expect  a  man  who  loved 
you  to  carry  your  likeness  always  with 
him?  And  you  asked  me  for  hers — and 
I  had  to  own  I  had  left  it  behind.  Yet  I 
had  one  with  me  then — it  is  always  with 
me — and  that  was  why  I  forgot  the  other. 
Look." 

He  drew  out  a  little  silver  case,  and 
Juliet,  reluctantly  releasing  one  eye  from 
the  shelter  of  the  friendly  sofa  pillow,  saw 
with  a  start  her  own  face  look  smiling  back 
at  her.  It  was  a  little  picture  of  he>* 


A  Question  of  Identity  43 

girlish  self  which  she  had  given  him  long 
ago  when  he  went  away  to  college. 

"No,"  he  said  quickly,  as  he  recognised 
the  indignant  question  which  instantly 
showed  in  her  eyes,  "I'm  not  disloyal  to 
Eleanor  Langham.  Because — dear — there 
is  no  such  person." 

With  a  little  cry  she  flung  herself  away 
from  him  among  the  pillows,  hiding  her 
face  from  sight.  There  was  a  moment's 
silence  while  Anthony  Robeson,  his  own 
face  growing  pale  with  the  immensity  of  the 
stakes  for  which  he  played,  made  his  last 
venture. 

"The  little  home  is  only  for  you,  Juliet. 
If  you  won't  share  it  with  me  it  shall  be 
closed  and  sold.  Perhaps  it  was  an  auda- 
cious thing  to  do — it  has  come  over  me  a 
great  many  times  that  it  was  too  audacious 
ever  to  be  forgiven.  But  I  couldn't  help 
the  hope  that  if  you  should  make  the  home 
yourself  you  might  come  to  feel  that  life 
with  a  man  who  had  his  way  to  make 
could  be  borne  after  all — if  you  loved  him 
enough.  It  all  depended  on  that.  As  I 
said,  I  didn't  mean  to  be  presumptuous, 
but  it  was  a  desperate  chance  with  me, 
dear.  I  couldn't  give  you  up,  and  I 


44  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

thought  perhaps — just  perhaps — you  cared 
— more  than  you  knew.  Anyhow — I  loved 
you  so — I  had  to  risk  it." 

Juliet's  charming  brown  head  was  buried 
so  deep  in  the  pillows  that  only  its  back 
with  the  masses  of  waving,  half-rumpled 
hair  was  visible.  But  up  from  the  depths 
came  a  smothered  question: 

"The  photograph?" 

Anthony's  face  lightened  as  if  the  sun 
had  struck  it,  but  he  kept  his  voice  quiet. 
"  Borrowed — it's  my  old  friend  Dennison's. 
I  never  even  saw  the  girl — though  I  ought 
to  beg  her  pardon  for  the  use  I  have  made 
of  her  face.  She's  married  now,  and  lives 
abroad  somewhere.  Will  you  forgive  me  ? " 

He  was  standing  over  her,  leaning  down 
so  that  his  cheek  touched  the  rumpled  hair. 
"How  is  it,  Juliet?  Could  you  live  in  the 
little  home — with  love — and  me?" 

It  was  a  long  time  before  he  got  any 
answer.  But  at  last  a  flushed,  wet,  radiant 
face  came  into  view,  an  arm  was  reached 
out,  and  as  with  an  inarticulate,  deep  note 
of  joy  he  drew  her  up  into  his  embrace,  a 
voice,  half  tears,  half  laughter,  cried: 

"Oh,  Tony — you  dear,  bad,  darling,  in- 
solent boy!  I  did  think  I  could  do  without 


A  Question  of  Identity  45 

you — but  I  can't.  And — oh,  Tony"— she 
was  sobbing  in  his  arms  now,  while  he 
regarded  the  top  of  her  head  with  laughing, 
exultant  eyes — "  I'm  so  glad — so  glad — so 
glad — there  isn't  any  Eleanor  .Langham! 
Oh,  Jiow  I  hated  her!" 

"Did   you,    sweetheart?"   he   answered, 

laughing  aloud  now.     Then  bending,  with 

his  lips  close  to  hers—  •"  well,  to  tell  the  truth 

—to  tell  the  honest  truth,  little  girl — so 

did  I!" 


VII. — AN  ARGUMENT  WITHOUT  LOGIC 

"I  don't  like  it,"  repeated  Mr.  Horatio 
Marcy,  obstinately,  and  shook  his  head  for 
the  fifth  time.  "  I've  not  a  word  to  say 
against  Anthony,  my  dear — not  a  word. 
He's  a  fine  fellow  and  comes  of  a  good 
family,  and  I  respect  him  and  the  start  he 
has  made  since  things  went  to  pieces, 
but " 

Juliet  waited,  her  eyes  downcast,  her 
cheeks  very  much  flushed,  her  mouth  in 
lines  of  mutiny. 

"But — "  her  father  continued,  settling 
back  in  his  chair  with  an  air  of  decision, 
"you  will  certainly  make  the  mistake  of 
your  life  if  you  think  you  can  be  happy  in 
the  sort  of  existence  he  offers  you.  You're 
not  used  to  it.  You've  not  been  brought 
up  to  it.  You  can  spend  more  money  in  a 
forenoon  than  he  can  earn  in  a  twelve- 
month. You  don't  know  how  to  adapt 

yourself  to  life  on  a  basis  of  rigid  economy. 
V » 

46 


An  Argument  Without  Logic  47 

"You  don't  forbid  it,  sir?" 

"Forbid  it? — no.  A  man  can't  forbid  a 
twenty-four  year  old  woman  to  do  as  she 
pleases.  But  I  advise  you — I  warn  you— 
I  ask  you  seriously  to  consider  what  it  all 
means.  You  are  used  to  very  many  habits 
of  living  which  will  be  entirely  beyond 
Anthony's  means  for  many  years  to  come. 
You  are  fond  of  travel — of  dress — of  so- 
cial  " 

"Father  dear,"  said  his  daughter,  inter- 
rupting him  gently  by  a  change  of  tactics. 
She  came  to  him  and  sat  upon  the  arm  of 
his  chair,  and  rested  her  cheek  lightly  upon 
the  top  of  his  thick,  iron-gray  locks.—  •"  Let's 
drop  all  this  for  the  present.  Let's  not 
discuss  it.  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  par- 
ticular favour  before  we  say  another  word 
about  it.  Come  with  me  down  to  see  the 
house.  It's  only  three  hours  away.  We 
can  go  after  breakfast  to-morrow  and  be 
back  for  dinner  at  seven.  It's  all  I  ask. 
My  arguments  are  all  there.  Please!— 
Pfeasel" 

So  it  came  about  that  at  eleven  o'clock 
on  a  certain  morning  in  August,  Mr. 
Horatio  Marcy  discovered  himself  to  be 
eyeing  with  critical,  reluctant  gaze  a 


48  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

quaintly  attractive,  low-spreading  white 
house  among  trees  and  vines.  He  became 
aware  at  the  same  time  of  a  sudden  close 
clasp  on  his  arm. 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  a  low  voice  in  his  ear. 
"  Does  it  look  habitable? " 

"Very  pretty,  very  pretty,  my  dear," 
Mr.  Marcy  admitted.  No  sane  man  could 
do  otherwise.  The  little  house  might  have 
been  placed  very  comfortably  between  the 
walls  of  the  dining-room  at  the  Marcy 
country  house,  but  there  was  an  indefinable, 
undeniable  air  of  gracious  hospitality  and 
homelikeness  about  its  aspect,  and  its  sur- 
roundings gave  it  an  appearance  of  being 
ample  for  the  accommodation  of  any  two 
people  not  anxious  to  get  away  from  each 
other. 

Juliet  produced  an  antique  door-key  of 
a  clumsy  pattern,  and  opened  the  door  into 
the  living-room.  She  ran  across  to  the 
windows  and  threw  them  open,  then  turned 
to  see  what  expression  might  be  at  the 
moment  illumining  Mr.  Marcy's  face.  He 
was  glancing  about  him  with  curious  eyes, 
which  rested  finally  upon  the  portrait  of  a 
courtly  gentleman  in  ruffles  and  flowing 
hair,  hanging  above  the  fireplace.  He 


An  Argument  Without  Logic  49 

adjusted  a  pair  of  eyeglasses  and  gave  the 
portrait  the  honour  of  his  serious  attention. 

"That  is  an  ancestor,"  Juliet  explained. 
"Doesn't  he  give  distinction  to  the  room? 
And  isn't  the  room — well — just  a  little  bit 
distinguished-looking  itself,  in  spite  of  its 
simplicity? — because  of  it,  perhaps.  The 
tables  and  most  of  the  chairs  are  what 
Anthony  found  left  in  the  old  Kentucky 
homestead  after  the  sale  last  year,  and 
bought  in  with — the  last  of  his  money." 
Her  eyes  were  very  bright,  but  her  voice 
was  quiet. 

Mr.  Marcy  looked  at  the  furniture  in 
question,  stared  at  the  walls,  then  at  the 
rug  on  the  polished  floor.  The  rug  held  his 
attention  for  two  long  minutes,  then  he 
glanced  sharply  at  his  daughter. 

"The  colourings  of  that  rug  are  very 
good,  don't  you  think?"  she  asked  with 
composure.  "It  will  last  until  Anthony 
can  afford  a  better  one." 

Mr.  Marcy  turned  significantly  toward 
the  door  of  the  dining-room,  and  Juliet  led 
him  through.  He  surveyed  the  room  in 
silence,  laying  a  hand  upon  a  chair  back; 
then  looked  suddenly  down  at  the  chair 
and  brought  his  eyeglasses  to  bear  upon  it. 


50  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"The  furniture  was  made  by  a  country 
cabinet-maker  who  charged  country  prices 
for  doing  it.  Tony  rubbed  in  a  very  thin 
stain  and  rubbed  the  wood  in  oil  afterward 
till  it  got  this  soft  polish." 

The  visitor  looked  incredulous,  but  he 
accepted  the  explanation  with  a  polite 
though  exceedingly  slight  smile.  Then  he 
was  taken  to  inspect  the  kitchen.  From 
here  he  was  led  through  the  pantry  back 
to  the  living-room,  and  so  upstairs.  He 
looked,  still  silently,  in  at  the  door  of  each 
room,  exquisite  in  its  dainty  readiness  for 
occupancy.  As  he  studied  the  blue-and- 
white  room  his  daughter  observed  that  he 
retained  less  of  the  air  of  the  connoisseur 
than  he  had  elsewhere  exhibited.  She  had 
shown  him  this  place  last  with  artful  intent. 
No  room  in  his  own  homes  of  luxury  could 
appeal  to  him  with  more  of  beauty  than 
was  visible  here. 

When  Mr.  Marcy  reached  the  living-room 
again  he  found  himself  placed  gently  but 
insistently  in  the  easiest  chair  the  room 
afforded,  close  by  an  open  window  through 
which  floated  all  the  soft  odours  of  country 
air  blowing  lightly  across  apple  orchards 
and  gardens  of  old-fashioned  flowers.  His 


An  Argument  Without  Logic  51 

daughter,  bringing  from  the  ingle  seat  a 
plump  cushion,  dropped  upon  it  at  his  feet- 
But  instead  of  beginning  any  sort  of  argu- 
ment she  laid  her  arm  upon  his  knee,  and 
her  head  down  upon  her  arm,  and  became 
as  still  as  a  kitten  who  has  composed  itself 
for  sleep.  Only  through  the  contact  of 
the  warm  young  arm,  her  father  could  feel 
that  she  was  alive  and  waiting  for  his 
speech. 

When  he  spoke  at  last  it  was  with  grave 
quiet,  in  a  gentler  tone  than  that  which  he 
had  used  the  day  before  in  his  own  library. 

"You  helped  Anthony  furnish  this 
house?" 

"Yes,  father." 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me  how  much  you 
Lad  at  your  disposal?" 

"Five  hundred  dollars."  Juliet  main- 
tained her  position  without  moving,  and 
her  face  was  out  of  sight. 

"  Did  this  include  the  repairs  upon  the 
place?" 

"  Yes — but  you  know  wages  are  low  just 
now  and  lumber  is  cheap.  Having  no  roof 
to  the  porch  made  it  inexpensive.  The 
painting  Anthony  helped  at  himself.  He 
worked  every  minute  of  his  two  weeks' 


52  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

vacation  on  whatever  would  cost  most  to 
hire  done." 

"Anthony  worked  at  painting  the  house  ? " 
There  was  astonishment  in  Mr.  Marcy's 
voice.  He  had  known  the  Robe  sons  of 
Kentucky  all  his  life.  He  had  never  seen 
one  of  them  lift  his  hand  to  do  manual 
labour.  There  had  been  no  need. 

"Yes,"  said  Juliet,  and  the  cheek  which 
rested  against  her  father's  knee  began  to 
grow  warm. 

:'You  have  obtained  a  somewhat  ex- 
traordinary effect  of  harmony  and  comfort 
inside  the  house,"  Mr.  Marcy  pursued.  "  It 
is  difficult  to  understand  just  how  you 
brought  it  about  with  so  small  an  expen- 
diture of  money." 

It  was  quite  impossible  now  for  Juliet 
to  keep  her  head  down.  She  looked  up 
eagerly,  but  she  still  managed  to  speak 
quietly. 

"  It  is  effect,  father,  and  it  is  art — not 
money.  The  paper  on  the  wall  cost  twenty- 
five  cents  a  roll,  but  it  is  the  right  paper  for 
the  place,  and  the  wrong  paper  at  ten 
times  that  sum  wouldn't  give  the  room  such 
a  background  of  soft  restfulness.  Then, 
you  see,  the  old  white  woodwork  is  in  very 


An  Argument  Without  Logic  53 

good  style,  and  the  green  walls  bring  it  out. 
The  old  floor  was  easily  dressed  to  give  that 
beautiful  waxed  finish.  They  told  me 
how  to  do  that  at  the  best  decorator's  in 
Boston.  The  rug  fits  the  colourings  very 
well.  Anthony's  old  furniture  would  give 
any  such  room  dignity.  The  portrait  lends 
the  finishing  touch,  I  think.  You  see,  when 
you  analyse  it  all  there's  nothing  in  the  least 
wonderful.  But  it  looks  like  a  home — 
doesn't  it?  And  when  the  little  things  are 
in  which  grow  in  a  home — the  photographs, 
a  bowl  of  sweet-williams  from  the  garden, 
the  lovely  old  copper  lamp  you  gave  me  on 
my  birthday — can't  you  think  how  dear  it 
will  all  be?" 

Mr.  Marcy  glanced  down  keenly  into  his 
daughter's  face. 

"  There  are  a  great  many  things  of  your 
own  at  home  which  would  naturally  come 
into  your  married  home,"  he  said. 

Juliet  coloured  richly.  "Yes,"  she  an- 
swered with  steady  eyes,  "but  except  for 
the  lamp,  and  the  photographs,  and  a  few 
such  very  little  things,  I  should  not  bring 
them.  Anthony  is  poor,  but  he  is  very 
proud.  I  couldn't  hurt  him  by  furnishing 
his  home  with  the  overflow  of  mine. 


54  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Besides — I  don't  need  those  things.  I 
don't  want  them.  All  I  want  out  of  the 
old  home  is — your  love — your  blessing, 
dear!" 

The  sharp  eyes  meeting  hers  softened 
suddenly.  Juliet  drew  herself  to  her  knees, 
and  leaning  forward  across  her  father's  lap, 
reached  both  arms  up  and  flung  them  about 
his  neck.  He  held  her  close,  her  head  upon 
his  shoulder,  and  all  at  once  he  found  the 
slender  figure  in  his  arms  shaken  with 
feeling.  Juliet  was  not  crying,  but  she  was 
drawing  long,  deep  breaths  like  a  child  who 
tries  to  control  itself. 

"You  need  have  no  doubt  of  either  of 
those  things,  my  little  girl,"  said  her  father 
in  her  ear.  "  Both  are  ready.  It  is  only 
your  happiness  I  want.  I  distrust  the 
power  of  any  poor  man  to  give  it  to  you. 
That  is  all.  Since  I  have  seen  this  house 
the  question  looks  less  doubtful  to  me — I 
admit  that  gladly.  But  I  still  am  anxious 
for  the  future.  Even  in  this  attractive 
place  there  must  be  monotony,  drudgery, 
lack  of  many  things  you  have  always  had 
and  felt  you  must  have.  You  have  never 
learned  to  do  without  them.  I  understand 
that  Robeson  will  not  accept  them  at  my 


An  Argument  Without  Logic  55 

hand,  nor  at  yours.  I  don't  know  that  I 
think  the  less  of  him  for  that — but — you 
will  have  to  learn  self-denial.  I  want  you 
to  be  very  sure  that  you  can  do  it,  and  that 
it  will  be  worth  while." 

There  was  a  little  silence,  then  Juliet 
gently  drew  herself  away  and  rose  to  her 
feet.  She  stood  looking  down  at  the  im- 
posing figure  of  the  elderly  man  in  the  chair, 
and  there  was  something  in  her  face  he  had 
never  seen  there  before. 

"There's  just  one  thing  about  it,  sir," 
she  said.  "  I  can't  possibly  spare  Anthony 
Robeson  out  of  my  life.  I  tried  to  do  it, 
and  I  know.  I  would  rather  live  it  out  in 
this  little  home — with  him — than  share  the 
most  promising  future  with  any  other  man. 
But  there's  this  you  must  remember:  A 
man  who  was  brought  up  to  do  nothing  but 
ride  fine  horses,  and  shoot,  and  dance,  must 
have  something  in  him  to  go  to  work  and 
advance,  and  earn  enough  to  buy  even  such 
a  home  as  this,  in  five  years.  He  has  a 
future  of  his  own." 

Mr.  Marcy  looked  thoughtful.  "Yes, 
that  may  be  true,"  he  said.  "I  rather 
think  it  is." 

"And,  father "  she   bent    to  lay  a 


56  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

roseleaf  cheek  against  his  own — "  you  began 
with  mother  in  a  poorer  home  than  this, 
and  were  so  happy !  Don't  I  know  that  ? " 

"Yes,  yes,  dear,"  he  sighed.  "That's 
true,  too.  But  we  were  both  poor — had 
always  been  so.  It  was  an  advance  for  us — 
not  a  coming  down." 

"It's  no  coming  down  for  me."  There 
was  spirit  and  fire  in  the  girl's  eyes  now. 
"Just  to  wear  less  costly  clothes — to  walk 
instead  of  drive — to  live  on  simpler  food— 
what  are  those  things?  Look  at  these," 
she  pointed  to  the  rows  of  books  in  the 
bookcases  which  lined  two  walls  of  the 
room.  "I'm  marrying  a  man  of  refine- 
ment, of  family,  of  the  sort  of  blood  that 
tells.  He's  an  educated  man — he  loves  the 
things  those  books  stand  for.  He's  good 
and  strong  and  fine — and  if  I'm  not  safe 
with  him  I'll  never  be  safe  with  anybody. 
But  besides  all  that — I — I  love  him  with 
all  there  is  of  me.  Oh — are  you  satisfied 
now?" 

Blushing  furiously  she  turned  away.  Her 
father  got  to  his  feet,  stood  looking  after 
her  a  moment  with  something  very  tender 
coming  into  his  eyes,  then  took  a  step 
toward  her  and  gathered  her  into  his  arms. 


VIII. — ON  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  TEA-KETTLE 

"THIS  is  the  nineteenth  day  of  August," 
observed  Anthony  Robeson.  "  We  finished 
furnishing  the  house  for  my  future  bride 
on  the  third  day  of  the  month.  Over  two 
weeks  have  gone  by  since  then.  The  place 
must  need  dusting." 

He  glanced  casually  at  the  figure  in  white 
which  sat  just  above  him  upon  the  step  of 
the  great  porch  at  the  back  of  the  Marcy 
country  house.  It  was  past  twilight,  the 
moon  was  not  yet  up,  and  only  the  glow 
from  a  distant  shaded  lamp  at  the  other  end 
of  the  porch  served  to  give  him  a  hint  as  to 
the  expression  upon  his  companion's  face. 

"I'm  beginning  to  lie  awake  nights,"  he 
continued,  "trying  to  remember  just  how 
my  little  home  looks.  I  can't  recall  whether 
we  set  the  tea-kettle  on  the  stove  or  left  it 
in  the  tin-closet.  Can  you  think?" 

"  You  put  it  on  the  stove  yourself,"  said 
Juliet.  "  You  would  have  filled  it  if  Auntie 
Dingley  hadn't  told  you  it  would  rust." 

57 


58  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Anthony  swerved  about  upon  the  heavy 
oriental  rug,  which  covered  the  steps,  until 
his  back  rested  against  the  column;  he 
clasped  his  arms  about  one  knee,  and  in- 
clined his  head  at  the  precise  angle  which 
would  enable  him  to  study  continuously 
the  shadowy  outlines  of  the  face  above  him, 
shot  across  with  a  ruby  ray  from  the  lamp. 
"I  wish  I  could  recollect,"  he  pursued, 
"whether  I  left  the  porch  awning  up  or 
down.  It  has  rained  three  times  in  the 
two  weeks.  It  ought  not  to  be  down." 

"I'm  sure  it  isn't,"  Juliet  assured  him. 
There  was  a  hint  of  laughter  in  her  voice. 

"  It  was  rather  absurd  to  put  up  that 
awning  at  all,  I  suppose.  But  when  you 
can't  afford  a  roof  to  your  piazza,  and 
compromise  on  an  awning  instead,  you 
naturally  want  to  see  how  it  is  going  to 
look,  and  you  rush  it  up.  Besides,  I  think 
there  was  a  strong  impression  on  my  mind 
that  only  a  few  days  intervened  before  our 
occupancy  of  the  place.  It  shows  how 
misled  one  can  be." 

There  was  no  reply  to  this  observation, 
made  in  a  depressed  tone.  After  a  minute 
Anthony  went  on. 

"These  cares  of  the  householder — they 


On  Account  of  the  Tea-Kettle  59 

absorb  me.  I'm  always  wondering  if  the 
lawn  needs  mowing,  and  if  the  new  roof 
leaks.  I  get  anxious  about  the  blinds — 
do  any  of  them  work  loose  and  swing  around 
and  bang  their  lives  out  in  the  night  ?  Have 
the  neighbours'  chickens  rooted  up  that  row 
of  hollyhock  seeds?  Then  those  books  I 
placed  on  the  shelves  so  hurriedly.  Are 
any  of  them  by  chance  upside  down?  Is 
Volume  I.  elbowed  by  Volume  II.  or  by 
Volume  VIII.?  And  I  can't  get  away  to 
see.  Coming  up  here  every  Saturday  night 
and  tearing  back  every  Sunday  midnight 
takes  all  my  time." 

"You  might  spend  next  Sunday  in  the 
new  house." 

"Alone?" 

"  Of  course.  You  have  so  many  cares 
they  would  keep  you  from  getting  lonely." 

Anthony  made  no  immediate  answer  to 
this  suggestion,  beyond  laughing  up  at  his 
companion  in  the  dim  light  for  an  instant, 
then  growing  immediately  sober  again. 
But  presently  he  began  upon  a  new  aspect 
of  the  subject. 

"  Juliet,  are  we  to  be  married  in  church? " 

"Tony!— I  don't  know." 

"But  what  do  you  think?" 


60  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"I— don't  think." 

"  What !     Do  you  mean  that  ? " 

"No-o." 

"  Of    course    you    don't.      Well  —  what 
about  it?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Are  we  to  have  a  big  wedding? " 

"  Do  you  want  one? " 

"  I — but   that's   not   the    question.     Do 
you  want  a  big  wedding? " 

She    hesitated    an    instant.     Then    she 
answered  softly,  but  with  decision:     "  No." 

Anthony  drew  a  long  breath.     "Thank 
the  Lord!"  he  said  devoutly. 

"Why?"  she  asked  in  some  surprise. 

"I've  never  exactly  understood  why  the 
boys  I've  been  best  man  for  were  so  miser- 
able over  the  prospect  of  a  show  wedding— 
but  I  know  now.  A  runaway  marriage 
appeals  to  me  now  as  it  never  did  before. 
I  want  to  be  married — tremendously — but 
I  want  to  get  it  over." 

A    soft    laugh    answered    him.     "We'll 
get  it  over." 

Anthony  sat  up  suddenly.     "Will  we?" 
he  asked  with  eagerness.     "  When? " 

"I  didn't  say  'when'!" 

"Juliet — when  are  you  going  to  say  it?" 


On  Account  of  the  Tea-Kettle  61 

"Why,  Tony— dear " 

"That's  right— put  in  the  'dear,'"  he 
murmured.  "  I've  heard  mighty  few  of 
'em  yet,  and  they  sound  great  to  me— 

"  We've  been  engaged  only  two  weeks— 

"  And  two  days— 

"  And  the  little  house  isn't  spoiling,  even 
though  you're  not  sure  about  the  tea- 
kettle and  the  awning.  I — you  don't  want 
to  hurry  things— 

"  Don't  I !  "— rebelliously. 

"If  I'm  very  good  and  say  'Christmas' 


" '  Christmas !  '—Great  Caesar ! " 

"But,  Tony- 

"  Now  see  here—  "  he  leaned  forward  and 
stared  up  at  her,  without  touching  her — he 
was  as  yet  allowed  few  of  the  lover's  favours 
and  prized  them  the  more  for  that— "do 
you  think  our  case  is  just  like  other  people's  ? 
Here  I've  been  waiting  for  you  all  my  days 
— waiting  and  waiting,  and  tortured  all  the 
time  by  suspense.  Then  I  lived  that  month 
of  July  with  my  heart  in  my  mouth— 
you'll  never  know  what  you  put  me  through 
those  days,  talking  and  jollying  about 
'Eleanor  Langham,'  and  never  for  one  in- 
stant, until  just  that  last  day,  giving  me 


62  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

the  smallest  pinch  of  hope  that  it  was  any- 
thing to  you  except  just  what  it  pretended 
to  be.  Then — I've  been  a  long  time  with- 
out a  home — and  the  little  house — sweet- 
heart— it  looks  like  Heaven  to  me.  Must  I 
stay  outside  till  Christmas — when  every- 
thing's all  ready?  Confound  it — I  don't 
want  to  play  the  pathetic  string,  and  the 
Lord  knows  I'm  happy  as  a  fellow  can  be 
who's  got  the  desire  of  his  life.  But— 

A  warm  hand  came  gently  upon  his  hair, 
and  for  joy  at  the  touch  he  fell  silent.  Once 
he  turned  his  head  and  put  his  lips  against 
the  white  sleeve  as  it  fell  near,  and  looked 
up  an  instant  with  eyes  whose  expression 
the  person  above  him  felt  rather  than  saw 
through  the  subdued  light.  By  and  by  she 
took  up  the  conversation. 

"  So  you  are  rejoiced  that  I  don't  want  a 
great  wedding?" 

"Immensely  relieved." 

"  What  would  you  like  best  ? " 

"I  don't  dare  tell  you." 

"You  may." 

"  Tell  me  what  you  would  like,  Julie.' 

"Of  course  father  would  say  the  town 
house,  even  if  it  were  a  small  affair.  Auntie 
Dingle)^  would  probably  agree  to  having 


On  Account  of  the  Tea-Kettle  63 

it  here — if  that  were  what  you — we — 
wanted — that  is ' 

Anthony  looked  up  quickly.  "  Even  at 
Christmas?" 

"Why  —  yes.  We  could  come  back. 
People  do  that  sometimes." 

"  Yes.  Must  we  do  what  other  people 
do?" 

"Would  you  rather  not?" 

"Ten  thousand  times.  It  seems  to  me 
that  the  biggest  mistake  people  make  is 
the  way  they  do  this  thing.  Juliet — think 
of  the  little  house.  We  made  it — you  made 
it.  For  years,  without  doubt,  it's  to  hold 
us  and  our  experiences.  Do  you  know  I'd 
like  to  give  it  this  one  to  begin  with? — I'm 
holding  my  breath!" 

Plainly  she  was  holding  hers.  Her  head 
was  turned  away — he  could  just  see  her 
profile  outlined  against  the  ruby  light. 
And  at  the  moment  there  were  footsteps 
inside  a  long  French  window  near  at  hand 
which  lay  open  into  the  library.  Mr. 
Horatio  Marcy  came  out  and  stood  still 
just  behind  them. 

Anthony  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  came 
forward  up  the  steps.  The  older  man 
greeted  him  cordially.  Anthony  pulled  a 


64  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

big  chair  into  position,  and  Mr.  Marcy  sat 
down.  He  was  smoking  and  wore  an  air 
of  relaxation.  He  and  his  guest  fell  to 
talking,  the  younger  man  entering  into  the 
conversation  with  as  much  ease  and  spirit 
as  if  he  were  not  fresh  from  what  was  to 
him  at  this  hour  a  much  more  interesting 
discussion.  Juliet  sat  quietly  and  listened. 

It  grew  into  an  absorbing  argument  after 
a  little,  the  two  men  taking  opposite  sides 
of  a  great  governmental  question  just  then 
claiming  public  interest.  Mrs.  Dingley 
came  out  and  joined  the  group,  and  she  and 
Juliet  listened  with  increasing  delight  in 
a  contest  of  brains  such  as  was  now  offered 
them.  Mr.  Marcy  himself,  while  he  put 
forth  his  arguments  with  conviction  and 
with  skill,  was  evidently  enjoying  the  keen 
wit  and  wisdom  of  his  young  opponent.  The 
elder  man  met  objection  with  objection,  set 
up  men  of  straw  to  be  knocked  down,  and 
ended  at  last  with  a  hearty  laugh  and  a 
frankly  appreciative : 

"Well,  Anthony — you  have  convinced 
me  of  one  thing,  certainly.  There  are  more 
sides  to  the  question  than  I  had  understood. 
I  will  admit  that  you've  made  a  strong 
argument.  But  when  I  come  back  I'll 


On  Account  of  the  Tea-Kettle  65 

down  you  with  fresh  material.  I  shall  have 
plenty  of  it." 

"Are  you  going  away  soon,  sir?"  An- 
thony asked  with  some  surprise.  Mr. 
Marcy  was  a  frequent  traveller,  preferring  to 
look  after  various  business  interests  in  far- 
away ports  himself  rather  than  entrust 
them  to  others. 

"  Yes — I  shall  be  off  in  a  few  weeks — and 
for  a  longer  time  than  usual.  I  haven't 
told  these  ladies  of  my  household  yet — but 
this  is  as  good  a  time  as  any.  Juliet,  little 
girl — I  may  be  gone  all  winter  this  time." 

She  came  quickly  to  him  without  speak- 
ing, and  gave  him  her  regretful  answer 
silently. 

"When  do  you  go,  Horatio?"  Mrs.  Ding- 
ley  asked. 

"About  the  first  of  October.  I  hadn't 
fully  decided  till  to-day.  I  had  thought  of 
inviting  you  two  to  go  with  me." 

He  looked  with  a  smile  at  his  sister  and 
his  daughter,  then  somewhat  quizzically 
at  Anthony.  The  latter  was  regarding  him 
with  an  alert  face  in  which,  as  nearly  as 
could  be  made  out  in  the  dim  light,  were  no 
signs  of  discomfiture. 

"Horatio,"  said  Mrs.  Dingley,   "I  wish 


66  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

you  would  come  into  the  library  for  a  few 
minutes.  This  reminds  me  of  a  letter  I  had 
to-day  from  one  of  your  old  friends,  asking 
when  you  were  to  be  at  home." 

The  French  window  closed  on  the  two 
older  people.  Juliet,  left  sitting  on  the 
arm  of  her  father's  chair,  found  Anthony 
behind  her. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  on  a  voyage  to  the 
Philippines?"  he  was  asking  over  her 
shoulder. 

"I'm  not  sure  just  what  I  do  want,"  she 
answered  rather  breathlessly. 

"The  tea-kettle  would  rust  while  you 
were  gone." 

He  got  no  reply. 

"  The  dust  would  grow  inches  deep  on  the 
dining-table  we  polished  so  carefully." 

Juliet  rose  and  walked  slowly  to  the  edge 
of  the  steps.  Anthony  followed.  "Let's 
go  and  walk  on  the  terrace,"  he  proposed, 
and  they  ran  down  to  the  smooth  sward 
below.  It  was  a  warm  night,  with  no  dew, 
and  the  short-shaven  grass  was  dry.  All 
the  stars  were  out.  Anthony  walked  beside 
the  figure  in  white,  his  hands  clasped  be- 
hind his  back. 

"Do  white  ruffled  curtains  like  those  at 


On  Account  of  the  Tea-Kettle  67 

our  windows  ever  grow  musty  from  being 
shut  up? "  he  insinuated  gently. 

"I  don't  know." 

"Will  you  write  from  every  port  you 
touch  at  ?  It  will  take  a  good  many  letters 
to  satisfy  me." 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"Suppose  what?    That  you  will  write?" 

Juliet  stood  still.  "You're  the  greatest 
wheedler  I  ever  saw,"  she  said. 

"Is  that  a  compliment?" 

"It's  not  meant  for  one.  What  am  I 
to  do  when  I'm— 

"Married  to  me? — I   don't  know,   poor 
child.     I  can  only  pity  you.     What  do  you 
think  the  prospect  is  for  me,  never  to  be 
able  to  get  the  smallest  concession  from 
you  except  by  every  art  of  coaxing  ?     Yet — • 
if  I  can  get  this  thing  I  want,  by  any  means 
—I  warn  you  I  shall  not  give  up  until  I've 
seen  you  sail." 
i     "  You'll  not  see  me  sail. ' ' 

He  wheeled  upon  her.  He  had  her  hand 
in  his  grasp.  "  And  if  you  don't  go  ? " 

"I'll  stay." 

"With  me?" 

She  laughed  irresistibly.  "How  could  I 
stay  without  you?" 


68  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  Will  you  marry  me  before  your  father 
goes?" 

"Oh,  Tony,  Tony- 

"  We  can't  be  married  without  his  bless- 
ing, can  we?" 

"No— dear   father." 

"Then- 

"  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow,"  said  she. 


IX. — A  BISHOP  AND  A  HAY- WAGON 

JULIET  Marcy's  prospective  maid-of-hon- 
our  found  Anthony  Robeson's  best  man 
at  her  elbow  the  moment  she  entered  the 
waiting-room  of  the  big  railway  station. 
Now,  although  she  greeted  him  with  a 
charming  little  conscious  look,  there  was 
nothing  either  new  or  singular  about  the 
quiet  rush  he  had  made  across  the  waiting- 
room  the  instant  he  saw  her.  The  rest  of 
the  party  of  twenty  people  who  were  going 
down  into  the  country  to  the  Marcy-Robe- 
son  wedding  understood  it  perfectly,  al- 
though the  engagement  had  not  been 
announced  and  probably  would  not  be  until 
Wayne  Carey  should  have  an  income 
decidedly  larger  than  he  had  at  present. 

Judith  Dearborn  joined  the  group  at  once, 
and  Carey  reluctantly  followed  her.  Judith 
had  a  way  of  joining  groups  and  of  giving 
her  betrothed  many  impatient  half-hours 
thereby. 

"Just  think  of  this,"  she  said  to  the 
6Q 


70  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

others.  "When  I  knew  Juliet  had  really 
given  in  to  Anthony  Robeson  at  last  I 
thought  I  should  be  asked  to  assist  at  an 
impressive  church  wedding.  But  here  we 
are  going  down  to  what  Tony  describes  as 
'  a  box  of  a  house '  in  the  most  rural  of 
suburbs.  If  it's  really  as  small  as  he  says 
even  twenty  people  will  be  a  tight  fit." 

"  How  in  the  world  did  they  come  to  be 
married  there?"  asked  the  sister  of  the 
best  man.  Everybody  had  been  sum- 
moned to  this  wedding  so  hurriedly  and  so 
informally  that  nobody  knew  much  about  it. 

The  son  of  the  Bishop — whose  father 
was  going  down  to  perform  the  ceremony — 
answered  promptly: 

"Tony  tells  me  its  Juliet's  own  choice. 
You  see  they  furnished  the  house  together, 
with  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Dingley;  and  Juliet  fell 
so  in  love  with  it  that  she  must  needs  be 
married  in  it.  What's  occurred  to  that 
girl  I  don't  know.  After  the  Robesons 
of  Kentucky  lost  their  money  and  every- 
thing else  but  their  social  standing  I 
thought  it  was  all  up  with  Anthony.  But 
he's  plucky.  He's  made  a  way  for  himself, 
and  he's  won  Juliet  somehow.  He  seems  to 
be  a  late  edition  of  that  obstinate  chap 


A  Bishop  and  a  Hay- Wagon  71 

who  remarked  '  I  will  find  a  way  or  make 
one.'  By  Jove — he  must  have  made  one 
when  he  convinced  Juliet  Marcy  that  she 
could  be  happy  in  a  house  where  twenty 
people  are  a  tight  fit." 

When  the  train  stopped  at  the  small  sta- 
tion Judith  Dearborn  said  in  Wayne  Carey'* 
ear,  as  he  glanced  wonderingly  from  the 
train :  "  Is  this  it  ?  Juliet  Marcy  must  be 
perfectly  crazy!" 

"She  certainly  must,"  admitted  Robe- 
son's  best  man.  But  he  stifled  a  sigh.  If 
Juliet  Marcy  could  do  so  crazy  a  thing  as 
to  marry  Anthony  Robeson  on  the  com- 
paratively small  salary  that  young  man- 
brought  up  to  do  nothing  at  all — was  now 
earning,  why  must  Wayne  Carey  wait  for 
several  times  that  income  before  he  could 
have  Juliet's  closest  friend?  Was  there 
really  such  a  difference  in  girls  ? 

But  at  the  next  instant  he  was  shouting 
hilariously,  and  so  was  everybody  else  except 
the  Bishop  and  the  Bishop's  wife,  who  only 
smiled  indulgently.  The  rest  of  the  party 
were  young  people,  and  their  glee  brooked 
no  repression.  The  moment  they  reached 
the  little  platform  they  comprehended  not 
only  that  they  were  coming  to  a  most  in- 


7  2  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

formal  wedding — they  were  also  in  for  a 
decidedly  novel  lark. 

Close  to  the  edge  of  the  platform  stood  a 
great  hay- wagon,  cushioned  with  fragrant 
hay  and  garlanded  with  goldenrod  and 
purple  asters.  Standing  erect  on  the  front, 
one  hand  grasping  the  reins  which  reached 
out  over  a  four-in-hand  of  big,  well-groomed, 
flower-bedecked  farm  horses,  the  other  wav- 
ing a  triumphant  greeting  to  his  friends,  was 
Anthony  Robeson,  in  white  from  head  to 
foot,  his  face  alight  with  happiness  and 
fun.  He  looked  like  a  young  king;  there 
could  be  no  other  comparison  for  his 
splendid  outlines  as  he  towered  there.  And 
better  yet,  he  looked  as  he  had  ever  looked, 
through  prosperity  and  through  poverty, 
like  a  "Robeson  of  Kentucky." 

Below  him,  prettier  than  she  had  ever 
been — and  that  was  saying  much — her  eyes 
brilliant  with  the  spirit  of  the  day,  laughing, 
dressed  also  in  wrhite,  a  big  white  hat 
drooping  over  her  brown  curls,  stood  Juliet 
Marcy. 

In  a  storm  of  salutations  and  congratula- 
tions the  guests  rushed  toward  this  extraor- 
dinary equipage  and  the  radiant  pair  who 
were  its  charioteers.  All  regrets  over  the 


1  Standing  erect     .     .     .     one   hand   grasping  the  reins 
was  Anthony  Robeson." 


A  Bishop  and  a  Hay-Wagon  73 

probable  commonplaceness  of  a  small  coun- 
try wedding  had  vanished. 

"  Might  have  known  they  would  do  things 
up  in  shape  somehow,"  grunted  the  Bishop's 
son  approvingly.  "  This  is  the  stuff.  Con- 
ventionality be  tabooed.  They're  going  to 
the  other  extreme,  and  that's  the  way  to 
do.  If  you  don't  want  an  altar  and  candles, 
and  a  high-mucky-muck  at  the  organ,  have 
a  hay- wagon.  Gee  I — Let  me  get  up  here 
next  to  Ben  Hur  and  the  lady ! " 

Even  the  Bishop,  sitting  with  clerical 
coat-tails  carefully  parted,  his  handsome 
face  beaming  benevolently  from  under  his 
round  hat,  and  Mrs.  Bishop,  granted  by 
special  dispensation  a  cushion  upon  the 
hay  seat,  enjoyed  that  drive.  Anthony, 
plying  a  long,  beribboned  lash,  aroused  his 
heavy-footed  steeds  into  an  exhilarating 
trot,  and  the  hay- wagon,  carrying  safely  its 
crew  of  young  society  people  in  their 
gayest  mood,  swept  over  the  half  -  mile 
from  the  station  to  the  house  like  a 
royal  barge. 

As  they  drew  up  a  chorus  of  "  Oh's! "  not 
merely  polite  but  sincerely  surprised  and 
admiring,  recognised  the  quaint  beauty  of 
the  little  house.  It  was  no  commonplace 


74  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

country  home  now,  though  the  changes 
wrought  had  been  comparatively  slight.  It 
looked  as  if  it  might  have  stood  for  years 
in  just  this  fashion,  yet  it  was  as  far  removed 
from  its  primitive  characterless  condition 
as  may  be  an  artist's  drawing  of  a  face  upon 
which  he  has  altered  but  a  line. 

Mrs.  Dingley  and  Mr.  Horatio  Marcy — a 
pair  whose  presence  anywhere  would  have 
been  a  voucher  for  the  decorum  of  the 
most  unconventional  proceedings  —  wel- 
comed the  party  upon  the  wide,  uncovered 
porch. 

"  We're  going  to  be  married  very  soon,  to 
have  it  over,"  called  Anthony.  "But  you 
may  explore  the  house  first,  so  your  minds 
shall  be  at  rest  during  the  crisis.  Just 
don't  wander  too  far  away  in  examin- 
ing this  ancestral  mansion.  There  are  six 
rooms.  I  should  advise  your  going  in  line, 
otherwise  complications  may  occur  in  the 
upper  hall.  Please  don't  all  try  to  get  into 
the  kitchen  at  once;  it  can't  be  done.  It 
will  hold  Juliet  and  me  at  the  same  time — 
all  the  rooms  have  been  stretched  to  do 
that — they  had  to  be;  but  I'm  not  sure  as  to 
their  capacity  for  more.  Now  make  your- 
selves absolutely  at  home.  The  place  is 


A  Bishop  and  a  Hay- Wagon  75 

yours — for  a  few  hours.  After  that  it's 
mine — and  Juliet's." 

He  glanced,  laughing,  at  his  bride,  as  he 
spoke  from  where  he  stood  in  the  doorway. 
She  was  on  the  little  landing  of  the  staircase, 
at  the  opposite  end  of  the  living-room.  She 
looked  down  and  across  at  him,  and  nearly 
everybody  in  the  room — they  were  throng- 
ing through  at  the  moment — caught  that 
glance.  She  was  smiling  back  at  him,  and 
her  eyes  lingered  only  an  instant  after  they 
met  his,  but  her  friends  all  saw.  There 
could  be  no  question  that  the  Juliet  Marcy 
who,  since  she  had  laid  aside  her  pinafores, 
had  kept  many  men  at  bay,  had  at  last 
surrendered.  As  for  Anthony— 

"  Why,  he's  always  been  in  love  with 
her,"  said  the  Bishop's  son  in  the  ear  of  the 
best  man,  as  in  accordance  with  their 
host's  permission  they  peeped  admiringly 
in  at  the  little  kitchen,  "  but  any  idiot  can 
see  that  he's  fairly  off  his  feet  now.  Ideal 
condition  —  eh?  Say,  this  dining-room's 
great — Jove,  it  is.  I'm  going  to  get  asked 
out  here  to  dinner  as  soon  as  they  are  back. 
Let's  go  upstairs.  The  girls  are  just  com- 
ing down — hear  'em  gurgling  over  what 
they  saw?" 


76  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Upstairs  the  best  man  looked  in  at  the 
blue-and-white  room  with  eyes  which  one 
with  penetration  might  have  said  were 
envious.  Indeed,  he  stared  at  everything 
with  much  the  same  expression.  He  was 
the  soberest  man  present.  Ordinarily  he 
could  be  counted  on  to  enliven  such  occa* 
sions,  but  to-day  his  fits  of  hilarity  were 
only  momentary,  and  during  the  intervals 
he  was  observed  by  the  Bishop's  son  to  be 
gazing  somewhat  yearningly  into  space  with 
an  abstraction  new  to  him. 

Nobody  knew  just  how  the  moment  for 
the  ceremony  arrived.  But  when  the  sur- 
vey of  the  house  was  over  and  everybody 
had  instinctively  come  back  to  the  living- 
room,  the  affair  was  brought  about  most 
naturally.  The  Bishop,  at  a  word  from  the 
best  man,  took  his  place  in  the  doorway 
opening  upon  the  porch,  which  had  been 
set  in  a  great  nodding  border  of  goldenrod. 
Anthony,  making  his  way  among  his  guests, 
came  with  a  quiet  face  up  to  Juliet  and, 
bending,  said  softly,  "  Now,  dear? "  A  hush 
followed  instantly,  and  the  guests  fell  back 
to  places  at  the  sides  of  the  room.  Anthony's 
best  man  was  at  his  elbow,  and  the  two 
went  over  to  the  Bishop,  to  stand  by  his 


A  Bishop  and  a  Hay-Wagon  77 

side.  Mr.  Marcy  moved  quietly  into  his 
place.  Juliet,  with  Judith,  who  had  kept 
beside  her,  walked  across  the  floor,  and 
Anthony,  meeting  her,  led  her  a  step 
farther  to  face  the  Bishop.  It  was  but  a 
suggestion  of  the  usual  convention,  and 
Anthony,  in  his  white  clothes,  surrounded 
as  he  was  by  men  in  frock-coats,  was 
assuredly  the  most  unconventional  bride- 
groom that  had  ever  been  seen.  Juliet, 
too,  wore  the  simplest  of  white  gowns,  with 
no  other  adornment  than  that  of  her  own 
beauty.  Yet,  somehow,  as  the  guests, 
grown  sober  in  an  instant,  looked  on  and 
noted  these  things,  there  was  not  one  who 
felt  that  either  grace  or  dignity  was  lacking. 
The  rich  voice  of  the  Bishop  was  as  im- 
pressive as  it  had  ever  been  in  chancel  or 
at  altar;  the  look  on  Anthony's  face  was 
one  which  fitted  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke 
his  vows;  and  Juliet,  giving  herself  to  the 
man  whose  altered  fortunes  she  was  agree- 
ing to  share,  bore  a  loveliness  which  made 
her  a  bride  one  would  remember  long — and 
envy. 

"There,  that's  done,"  said  the  Bishop's 
son  with  a  gusty  sigh  of  relief,  which  brought 
the  laugh  so  necessary  to  the  relaxing  of 


78  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

the  tension  which  accompanies  such  scenes. 
"  Jove,  it's  a  good  thing  to  see  a  fellow  like 
Robeson  safely  tied  up  at  last.  You  never 
can  tell  where  these  quixotic  ideas  about 
houses  and  hay-wagons  and  weddings  may 
lead.  It's  a  terrible  strain,  though,  to  see 
people  married.  I  always  tremble  like  a 
leaf — I  weigh  only  a  hundred  and  ninety- 
eight  now,  and  these  things  affect  me. 
It's  so  frightful  to  think  what  might  happen 
if  they  should  trip  up  on  their  specifica- 
tions." 

There  was  a  simple  wedding  breakfast 
served — by  whom  nobody  could  tell.  It 
was  eaten  out  in  the  orchard — a"1  pleasant 
place,  for  the  neglected  grass  had  been  close 
cut,  and  an  old-fashioned  garden  at  one 
side  perfumed  the  air  with  late  September 
flowers.  The  trim  little  country  maids 
who  brought  the  plates  came  from  a  willow- 
bordered  path  which  led  presumably  to  the 
next  house,  some  distance  down  the  road. 
There  were  several  innovations  in  the 
various  dishes,  delicious  to  taste.  Alto- 
gether it  was  a  little  feast  which  everybody 
enjoyed  with  unusual  zest.  And  the  life 
of  the  party  was  the  bridegroom. 

"  I  never  saw  a  fellow  able  to  scintillate 


A  Bishop  and  a  Hay-Wagon  79 

like  that  at  his  own  wedding,"  remarked 
the  son  of  the  Bishop  to  the  best  man's 
sister.  "Usually  they  are  so  completely 
dashed  by  their  own  temerity  in  getting 
into  such  an  irretrievable  situation  that 
they  sit  with  their  ears  drooping  and  their 
eyes  bleared.  Do  you  suppose  it's  getting 
married  in  tennis  clothes  that's  done  it?" 

"Tennis  clothes!"  cried  the  best  man's 
sister  with  a  merry  laugh.  "  If  you  realised 
how  much  handsomer  he  looks  than  you 
men  in  your  frock-coats  you  would  not 
make  fun." 

"Make  fun!"  repeated  the  Bishop's  son 
solemnly.  "  I  joke  only  to  keep  my  head 
above  water.  I  never  in  my  life  was  so 
completely  submerged  in  the  desire  to  get 
married  instantly  and  live  in  a  picturesque 
band-box.  Nothing  can  keep  me  from  it 
longer  than  it  takes  to  find  the  girl  and  the 
band-box.  If — if—  '  his  voice  dropped  to 
a  whisper,  and  a  hint  of  redness  crept  into 
his  face  which  belied  his  jesting  words, 
"  you  knew  of  the  girl — I — er — say — should 
you  mind  living  in  a  band-box? " 

The  best  man's  sister  was  the  sort  of  girl 
who  can  discern  when  even  an  inveterate 
joker  is  daring  to  be  somewhat  more  than 


8o  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

half  in  earnest,  and  she  flushed  so  prettily 
that  the  son  of  the  Bishop  caught  her  hand 
boyishly  under  the  little  table.  He  had 
hitherto  been  considered  a  hopeless  old 
bachelor,  so  it  may  readily  be  seen  that, 
now  the  contagion  had  caught  him,  his  was 
quite  a  serious  case. 


X. — ON  A  THRESHOLD 

WHEN  it  was  all  over  Judith  Dearborn 
went  upstairs  with  Juliet  to  help  her  dress 
for  her  going  away.  The  maid-of -honour 
looked  about  the  blue-and-white  room  with 
thoughtful  eyes. 

"This  is  certainly  the  ^dearest  room  I 
ever  saw,"  she  said.  "Oh,  Juliet,  do  you 
think  you  really  will  be  happy  here? " 

"What  do  you  think  about  it,  dear?" 
asked  Juliet. 

"Oh — I — well,  really — I  never  imagined 
that  a  little  old  house  like  this  could  be 
made  so  awfully  attractive.  But,  Juliet— 
you — you  must  be  very,  very  fond  of  An- 
thony to  give  up  so  many  things.  How 
well  he  looked  to-day.  Seems  to  me  he's 
grown  gloriously  in  every  way  since  he— 
since  his  family  came  into  so  many  mis- 
fortunes." 

Juliet  smiled,  but  answered  nothing. 

"  And  you're  so  different,  too.  Never  in 
my  life  would  I  have  imagined  you  having 

81 


82  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

a  wedding  like  this — and  yet  it's  been 
absolutely  the  prettiest  one  I  ever  saw. 
That's  a  sweet  gown  to  go  away  in — but 
it's  the  simplest  thing  you  ever  wore,  I'm 
sure.  Juliet,  where  are  you  going?" 

"We  are  going  to  drive  through  the 
Berkshires  in  a  cart." 

"Juliet  Marcy!" 

"'Robeson,"  corrected  Juliet  with  a 
little  laugh,  but  in  a  tone  which  it  was  a 
pity  Anthony  could  not  hear.  "  Don't 
forget  that.  I'm  so  proud  of  the  name. 
And  I  think  a  drive  through  the  Berk- 
shires  will  be  a  perfectly  ideal  trip." 

Judith  Dearborn  was  not  assisting  the 
bride  at  all.  Instead  she  was  sitting  in  a 
chair,  staring  at  Juliet  with  much  the  same 
abstraction  of  manner  observable  in  the 
best  man  throughout  the  day. 

"Of  course  you  didn't  need  to  live  this 
way,"  observed  Miss  Dearborn  at  length. 
"You  could  have  afforded  to  live  much 
more  expensively." 

"  No,  I  couldn't,"  said  Juliet  with  a  flash 
in  her  eyes,  though  she  smiled;  "  I  couldn't 
have  afforded  to  do  one  thing  that  would 
hurt  Tony's  pride.  Why,  Judith — he's  a 
'  Robeson  of  Kentucky.' ' 


On  a  Threshold  83 

"Well,  he  looks  it,"  admitted  Judith. 
"And  you're  a  Marcy  of  Massachusetts. 
The  two  go  well  together.  Juliet,  do  you 
know — somehow — I  thought  it  was  a  fear- 
ful sacrifice  you  were  making,  even  for  such 
a  man  as  Anthony — but — this  blue-and- 
white  room— 

"Ah,  this  blue-and- white  room—  '  re- 
peated Juliet.  Then  she  came  over  and 
dropped  on  her  knees  by  her  friend  in  her 
impulsive  way  and  put  both  arms  around 
her.  The  plain  little  going- away  gown 
touched  folds  with  the  one  whose  elegance 
was  equalled  only  by  its  cost.  Anthony 
Robeson's  wife  looked  straight  up  into  the 
eyes  of  her  maid-of -honour  and  whispered: 

"Judith,  don't  put  Wayne — and — your 
blue- and- white  room  off  too  long.  You 
will  not  be  any  happier  to  wait — if  you  love 
him." 

Drawn  up  close  to  the  door  stood  the 
cart.  Beside  it  waited  Anthony.  Around 
the  cart  crowded  twenty  people.  When 
Juliet  came  through  them  to  say  good-bye 
the  son  of  the  Bishop  murmured: 

"Er— Mrs.  Robeson- 

"Yes,    Mr.    Farnham "    said    Juliet 


84  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

promptly,  her  delicate  flush  answering  the 
name,  as  it  had  answered  it  many  times 
that  day. 

"When  are  you  going  to  be  at  home  to 
your  friends?" 

"The  fifteenth  day  of  October,"  said 
Juliet.  "And  from  then  on,  every  day  in 
the  week,  every  week  in  the  year.  Come 
and  see  us — everybody.  But  don't  expect 
any  formal  invitations." 

"I'll  be  down,"  declared  the  Bishop's 
son.  "  I'll  be  down  once  a  week." 

"  Please  don't  stay  long  after  we  are 
gone,"  requested  Anthony,  putting  his  bride 
into  the  cart  and  springing  in  beside  her. 
He  gathered  up  the  reins.  "Good-bye," 
he  called.  "Take  this  next  train  home. 
It  goes  in  an  hour.  Lock  the  door,  Carey, 
and  hang  the  key  up  in  plain  sight  by  the 
window  there.  We  live  in  the  country  now, 
and  that's  the  way  we  do.  Good-bye- 
good-bye!" 

Then  he  drove  rapidly  away  down  the 
road. 

"And  that  pair,"  said  the  son  of  the 
Bishop  gravely,  looking  after  them  and 
speaking  to  the  company  in  general,  "  mar- 
ried, so  to  speak,  in  a  hay-wagon,  and  going 


On  a  Threshold  85 

for  a  wedding  trip  in  a  wheel-barrow 
through  the  Berkshires,  is  Juliet  Marcy  and 
Anthony  Robeson." 

"No,  my  son,"  said  the  Bishop  slowly— 
/and  everybody  always  listened  when  the 
'Bishop  spoke:     "It  is  Anthony  and  Juliet 
Robeson — and  that  makes  all  the  difference. 
I  think  two  happier  young  people  I  never 
married.     And  may  God  be  with  them." 

The  best  man  said  that  he  and  the  maid- 
of -honour  would  walk  the  half-mile  to  the 
station.  The  son  of  the  Bishop  and  the 
sister  of  the  best  man  had  already  taken 
this  course  without  saying  anything  about 
it.  Nearly  everybody  murmured  some- 
thing about  it  being  a  lovely  evening  and 
a  glorious  sunset  and  a  charming  road,  and, 
pairing  off  advisedly,  adopted  the  same 
plan.  The  Bishop  and  Mrs.  Bishop,  Mrs. 
Dingley  and  Mr.  Marcy  decided  on  being 
driven  over  to  the  station  in  a  light  surrey 
provided  for  this  anticipated  emergency. 

The  best  man  and  the  maid-of-honour 
succeeded  in  dropping  behind  the  rest  of 
the  pedestrians.  Their  friends  were  used 
to  that,  and  let  them  mercifully  alone. 

"Mighty  pretty  affair,"  observed  Carey 
in  a  melancholy  tone. 


86  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Yes — in  its  way,"  admitted  Judith 
Dearborn  with  apparent  reluctance. 

"Cosy  house." 

"Very." 

"Tony  seemed  happy." 

"Ecstatic."  Judith's  inflection  was  pe- 
culiar. 

"  Nobody  would  have  suspected  Juliet  of 
feeling  blue  about  living  off  here." 

"She  doesn't  seem  to." 

"What's  made  the  difference?" 

"Anthony  Robeson,  probably." 

"  Must  seem  pretty  good  to  him  to  have 
her  care  like  that." 

"  I  presume  so." 

"  It  isn't  everybody  that  could  inspire 
such  an — affection — in  such  a  girl." 

"No,  indeed." 

Carey  looked  intensely  gloomy.  The 
two  walked  on  in  silence,  Miss  Dearborn 
studying  the  sunset,  Carey  studying  Miss 
Dearborn.  Suddenly  he  spoke  again. 

"Judith,  do  all  our  plans  for  the  future 
seem  as  desirable  to  yoti  as  they  did  this 
morning?" 

"Which  ones?" 

"  Apartment  in  the  locality  we've  picked 
out — life  in  the  style  the  locality  calls  for — 


On  a  Threshold  87 

and  wait  for  it  all  until  I'm  gray "  with 

a  burst  of  tremendous  energy.  "  Good 
heavens,  darling,  what's  the  use?  Why — • 
if  I  could  have  you  and  a  little  home  like 
that " 

He  bit  his  lip  hard.  The  maid-of -honour 
walked  on,  her  head  turned  still  farther 
away  than  before.  They  were  nearing  the 
station.  Just  ahead  lay  a  turn  in  the  road 
—the  last  turn.  The  rest  of  the  party, 
with  a  shout  back  at  this  dilatory  pair,  dis- 
appeared around  it.  From  the  distance 
came  the  long,  shrill  whistle  of  the  ap- 
proaching train. 

The  maid-of-honour  glanced  behind: 
there  was  not  a  soul  in  sight;  ahead:  and 
saw  nothing  to  alarm  a  girl  with  an  impulse 
in  her  heart.  At  a  point  where  great 
masses  of  reddening  sumac  hid  a  little  dip 
in  the  road  from  everything  earthly  she 
stopped  suddenly,  and  turning,  put  out 
both  hands.  She  looked  up  into  a  face 
which  warmed  on  the  instant  into  a  half- 
incredulous  joy  and  said  very  gently: 
"You  may." 


88  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

lately  settled  down  upon  the  silent  little 
house,  waiting  alone  for  its  owners  to  come 
back  some  October  day,  when  a  cart,  driven 
slowly,  rolled  along  the  road.  In  front  of 
the  house  it  stopped. 

"Where  are  we?"  asked  Juliet's  voice. 
"This  is  a  private  house.     I  thought  we— 
Why,    Tony — do    you    see? — We've    come 
around  in  a  circle  instead  of  going  on  to  that 
little  inn  you  spoke  of.     This  is — home! " 

"Is  it?"  said  Anthony's  voice  in  a  tone 
of  great  surprise.  "So  it  is!"  He  leaped 
out  and  came  around  to  Juliet's  side. 
"  What  a  fluke! "  But  the  happy  laugh  in 
his  voice  betrayed  him. 

"Anthony  Robeson,"  cried  Juliet  softly, 
"you  need  not  pretend  to  be  surprised. 
You  meant  to  do  it." 

" Did  I?"  He  reached  out  both  arms  to 
take  her  down.  "  Perhaps  I  did.  Do  you 
mind — Mrs.  Robeson?  Shall  we  go  on?" 

Juliet  looked  down  at  him.  "  No,  I 
don't  think  I  mind,"  she  said. 

He  swung  her  down,  and  they  went 
slowly  up  the  walk.  "Somehow,"  said 
Anthony  Robeson,  looking  up  at  the  house, 
lying  as  if  asleep  in  the  September  night, 
"  when  I  thought  of  taking  you  to  that  little 


On  a  Threshold  8$ 

public  inn,  and  then  remembered  that  we 
might  have  this  instead —  We  can  go  on 
with  our  wedding  journey  to-morrow,  dear 
— but — to-night- 
He  led  her  silently  upon  the  porch.  He 
found  the  key,  where  in  jest  he  had  bade 
his  best  man  put  it,  and  unlocked  the  door 
and  threw  it  open. 

He  stepped  first  upon  the  threshold,  and, 
turning,  held  out  his  arms. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  smiling  in  the  darkness. 


XI. — A  BACHELOR  AT  DINNER 

"  HALLO  there — Anthony  Robeson — don't 
be  in  such  a  hurry  you  can't  notice  a  fellow. ' ' 

The  big  figure  rushing  through  the  snow 
paused,  wheeled,  and  thrust  out  a  hand  of 
hearty  greeting.  "  That  you,  Carey  ?  Hat 
over  your  eyes  like  a  train  robber — electric 
lights  all  behind  you — and  you  expect  me 
to  smile  at  you  as  I  go  by!  How  are  you? 
How's  Judith?" 

"  Infernally  lonely  —  I  mean  I  am  — 
Judith's  off  on  a  visit  to  her  mother.  Say, 
Tony — take  me  home  with  you — will  you? 
I  want  some  decent  things  to  eat,  so  I'm 
holding  you  up  on  purpose." 

"Good — come  on.  Train  goes  in  a  few 
minutes.  Juliet  will  be  delighted." 

The  two  hurried  on  together  into  the 
station  from  which  the  suburban  trains 
were  constantly  leaving.  As  they  entered 
they  encountered  a  mutual  friend,  at 
whom  both  flung  themselves  enthusiastic- 
ally with  alternate  greetings : 

90 


A  Bachelor  at  Dinner  91 

"Roger  Barnes " 

"  Roger — old  fellow — glad  to  see  you 
back!" 

"  Patient  safely  landed? " 

"Get  a  big  fee?" 

"Where  you  going?" 

"  Let's  take  him  home  with  us,  Tony " 

The  third  man  looked  smiling  at  Tony. 
"  I'll  challenge  you  to,"  said  he. 

"That's  easy  —  come  on,"  responded 
Anthony  Robeson  with  cordiality.  "I'll 
just  telephone  Mrs.  Robeson." 

"That's  it,"  said  Dr.  Roger  Barnes. 
"You  don't  dare  not  to.  I  understand. 
Go  ahead.  But  if  she's  too  much  dashed 
let  me  know,  will  you? " 

Anthony  turned,  laughing,  into  a  tele- 
phone closet,  from  which  he  emerged  in  time 
to  catch  his  train  with  his  guests. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  assured  them.  "  But 
it's  only  fair  to  let  her  know  a  few  minutes 
ahead.  You  like  to  understand,  Roger, 
before  you  start,  don't  you,  whether  your 
emergency  case  is  a  hip-fracture  or  a  cut 
lip,  so  you  can  tell  whether  to  take  your 
glue  or  your  sewing-silk?" 

"  By  all  means,"  said  the  bachelor  of  the 
party.  "  And  I  suppose  you  think  Mrs.  Juliet 


92  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Marcy  Robeson  is  now  smiling  happily  to 
herself  over  this  little  surprise.  I'll  lay  you 
anything  you  please  that  if  I  can  make  her 
own  up  she'll  admit  that  she  said  '  Merciful 
heavens!'  into  the  telephone  when  she  got 
your  message." 

Anthony  shook  his  head.  "Evidently 
you  don't  know  what  guests  in  the  remote 
suburbs  on  a  stormy  February  night  mean 
to  a  poor  girl  whose  nearest  neighbour  is 
five  hundred  feet  away.  Your  ideas  of 
married  life  need  a  little  freshening,  too. 
They're  pretty  antique." 

It  was  a  half-mile  from  the  station  to  the 
house — the  "box  of  a  house"— which  had 
been  Anthony's  home  for  five  months,  and 
toward  which  he  now  led  his  friends  with 
the  air  of  a  man  about  to  show  his  most 
treasured  possessions.  He  strode  through 
the  deepening  snow  as  if  he  enjoyed  the 
strenuous  tramp,  setting  a  pace  which 
Wayne  Carey,  with  his  office  life,  if  not  the 
doctor,  more  vigorously  built  and  bred, 
found  difficult  to  maintain. 

"  Here  we  are,"  called  the  leader,  pointing 
toward  windows  glowing  with  a  ruddy  light. 
The  doctor  looked  up  with  interest.  Carey 
was  a  frequent  visitor,  but  the  busy  sur- 


A  Bachelor  at  Dinner  93 

geon,  old  school  -  and  -  college  chum  of 
Anthony's  though  he  was,  was  about  to 
have  his  first  introduction  to  a  place  of 
which  he  had  heard  much,  but  of  whose 
nearness  to  Paradise  he  doubted  with  the 
strong  skepticism  of  a  man  who  has  seen 
many  a  fair  beginning  end  in  all  unhappiness, 
and  desolation. 

As  they  stamped  upon  the  little  porch 
the  door  flew  open,  the  brilliancy  and 
comfort  of  a  fire-and-lamplit  room  leaped 
out  at  them,  a  delicious  faint  odour  of 
cookery  assailed  their  hungry  nostrils,  and 
the  welcome  which  makes  all  worth  having 
met  them  on  the  threshold. 

"Wayne,"  said  the  rich  young  voice  of 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  "  I'm  so  glad. 
Roger  Barnes,  this  is  just  downright  good 
of  you;  it's  so  long  you've  promised  us  this. 
Tony " 

What  she  said  to  Tony  must  have  been 
whispered  in  his  ear  if  voiced  at  all,  for  the 
two  guests,  looking  on  with  laughing, 
envious  eyes,  saw  their  hostess  swept 
unceremoniously  into  a  bearlike  embrace, 
swung  into  the  air  as  one  thrusts  up  a 
child,  poised  there  an  instant,  laughing 
and  protesting,  then  slowly  lowered  to  be 


94  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

kissed,  and   set   down  once   more   lightly 
upon  the  floor. 

"It's  all  right.  I  didn't  tumble  your 
hair  a  bit,"  said  Anthony  coolly.  "  Excuse 
me,  gentlemen,  but  Wayne  understands— 
and  Roger  will  some  day,  I  hope — that  a 
man  who  has  been  thinking  about  it  all  the 
way  home  can't  put  it  off  on  account  of  a 
couple  of  idiots  who  stand  and  stare  instead 
of  politely  turning  their  backs.  Oh,  don't 
mention  it — it  doesn't  disturb  me  at  all; 
and  Mrs.  Robeson  is  becoming  reconciled  to 
my  impetuosity  by  degrees.  Make  your- 
selves at  home,  boys.  Juliet — 

"Take  them  upstairs,  Tony,  please.  Of 
course  we  can't  let  them  go  back  to-night, 
now  we  have  them.  It's  beginning  to 
storm  heavily,  isn't  it?  I  thought  so. 
Take  them  to  the  guest-room,  Tony — and 
dinner  will  be  served  as  soon  as  you  are 
down." 

"  By  Jupiter,  I  believe  she  means  it,"  de- 
clared the  doctor,  with  approval,  as  the 
door  of  the  bedroom  closed  on  his  host. 
"  I  think  I  can  tell  when  a  woman  is  sham- 
ming. She's  improved,  hasn't  she,  tremen- 
dously? Pretty  girl  always,  but — well— 


A  Bachelor  at  Dinner  95 

bloomed  now.  Nice  little  house.  Believe 
I'll  have  to  stay,  though  I  ought  not — 
just  to  take  observations  on  Tony.  His 
enthusiasm  has  all  the  appearance  of 
reality.  In  fact,  it  strikes  me  he  has 
rather " 

It  was  on  his  lips  to  say  "  rather  more  than 
you  have,"  but  it  occurred  to  him  in  time 
that  jokes  on  this  ground  are  dangerous. 
Wayne  Carey  had  been  married  in  Novem- 
ber, was  living  in  a  somewhat  unpretentious 
way  in  a  downtown  boarding-house,  and 
certainly  had  to-night  so  much  of  a  lost-dog 
air  that  it  made  the  doctor  pause.  So  he 
substituted:  "  — rather  more  than  I  should 
have  expected,  even  of  a  fellow  who  has  got 
the  girl  he  has  wanted  all  his  life,"  and  fell 
to  washing  and  brushing  vigorously,  eyeing 
meanwhile  the  little  room  with  a  critical 
bachelor's  appreciation  of  beauty  and  com- 
fort in  the  quarters  he  is  to  occupy.  It  was 
very  simply  furnished,  certainly,  but  it 
struck  him  as  a  place  where  his  dreams 
were  likely  to  be  pleasant  for  every  reason 
in  the  world. 

Downstairs,  Juliet,  in  the  dining-room, 
was  surveying  her  table  with  the  hostess's 
satisfaction.  Opposite  her  stood  a  tall 


96  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

and  slender  girl,  black-haired,  black-eyed, 
with  a  face  of  great  attractiveness. 

"I  wish,  Mrs.  Robeson,"  she  was  saying 
eagerly,  "  you  would  let  me  serve  you 
as  your  maid,  and  not  make  a  guest 
of  me.  Really  I  should  love  to  do  it. 
I  don't  need  to  meet  your  friends,  and  I 
don't  mind  seeming  what  I  really  am— 
your 

"Rachel  Redding,"  Juliet  interrupted, 
lifting  an  affectionate  glance  across  the 
table,  "  if  you  want  to  seem  what  you  really 
are — my  friend — you  will  let  me  do  as  I 
like." 

"My  shabby  clothes "  murmured  the 

girl. 

"  If  I  could  look  as  much  like  a  princess  as 
you  do  in  them ' 

"Mrs.  Robeson,  in  that  lovely  dull  red 
you're  a  queen ' 

" — dowager,"  finished  Juliet  gayly. 
"  Well,  I'll  be  proud  of  you,  and  you  can  be 
proud  of  me,  if  you  like,  and  together  we'll 
make  those  hungry  men  think  there's 
nothing  like  us.  The  dinner's  the  thing. 
Isn't  it  the  luckiest  chance  in  the  world  I 
sent  for  those  oysters  this  morning  ?  Doctor 
Barnes  is  perfectly  fine,  but  he  never  would 


A  Bachelor  at  Dinner  97 

believe  in  the  happiness  of  married  life  if 
the  coffee  were  poor  or  the  beefsteak  too 
much  broiled.  Doesn't  the  table  look 
pretty  ?  Those  red  geranium  blossoms  you 
brought  me  give  it  just  the  gay  touch  it 
needed  this  winter  night." 

Three  men,  standing  about  the  wide  fire- 
place, warming  cold  hands  at  its  friendly 
blaze,  turned  expectantly  as  their  youthful 
hostess  came  in,  followed  by  a  graceful  girl 
in  gray.  Juliet  presented  her  guests  with 
the  air  of  conferring  upon  them  a  favour, 
and  they  seemed  quite  ready  to  accept  it  as 
such. 

Anthony  looked  on  with  interest  to  see 
a  person  whom  he  had  known  hitherto  only 
as  a  pretty  but  poor  young  neighbour 
whom  Juliet  had  engaged  to  help  her  for  a 
certain  part  of  every  day,  introduced  as  his 
wife's  friend,  and  greeted  by  Doctor  Barnes 
and  Wayne  Carey  with  quite  evident  ad- 
miration and  pleasure.  He  looked  haid  at 
her,  as  Carey  seated  her,  noticing  for  the 
first  time  that  she  was  really  worth  con- 
sideration, and  remembering  vaguely  that 
Juliet  had  more  than  once  tried  to  impress 
him  with  the  fact.  If  it  had  not  been  for 


98  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

the  other  fellows,  with  whose  eyes  as  their 
host  he  was  now  stimulated  to  observe  her, 
he  might  have  been  still  some  time  longer 
in  coming  to  the  realisation  that  Juliet  had 
found  somebody  in  whom  her  genuine 
interest  was  not  misplaced.  But  Anthony 
Robeson  had  all  his  life  been  singularly 
blind  to  the  fascinations  of  most  other 
women  than  Juliet.  As  he  turned  his  keen 
gaze  from  Rachel  Redding  to  the  charming 
figure  that  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table  the  satisfaction  in  his  eyes  became 
so  pronounced  that  it  could  mean,  Dr. 
Roger  Barnes  admitted  to  himself,  as  he 
caught  it,  nothing  less  than  a  very  real 
happiness. 

It  was  not  an  elaborate  dinner.  It  was 
not  by  any  means  the  sort  of  dinner  Juliet 
might  have  prepared  had  she  known  that 
morning  whom  she  was  to  entertain.  It 
was  merely  a  dinner  planned  with  affec- 
tionate care  to  please  and  satisfy  one 
hungry  man  who  liked  good  things  to  eat — 
and  amplified  as  much  as  possible  in 
quantity  after  Anthony's  message  reached 
her.  And  by  that  admirable  collusion 
between  hostess  and  feminine  friend  which 
can  sometimes  be  effected  when  the  situation 


A  Bachelor  at  Dinner  99 

demands  it,  the  dinner  prepared  for  three 
seemed  ample  for  five. 

Between  them  Juliet  and  Rachel  Redding 
served  the  various  dishes  and  changed  the 
plates  which  Anthony  handed  from  his 
place.  It  was  gracefully  done  and  r.o 
simply  that  the  absence  of  a  maid  was  a 
thing  to  be  enjoyed  rather  than  regretted. 
When  Juliet,  in  the  softly  sweeping  dull-red 
frock  which  made  of  her  a  warm  picture  for 
a  winter's  night,  slipped  from  her  chair  and 
moved  about  the  room,  or  brought  in  from 
the  kitchen  a  steaming  dish,  she  seemed  the 
ideal  hostess,  herself  bestowing  what  her  own 
hands  had  prepared.  And  when  Rachel 
Redding  offered  a  man  a  cup  of  fragrant 
coffee,  smiling  down  in  the  general  direction 
of  his  uplifted  face  without  meeting  his 
eyes,  there  was  certainly  nothing  lost  from 
his  enjoyment  of  the  beverage. 

"Say,  but  this  dinner  has  tasted  just 
about  right,"  was  Wayne  Carey's  satisfied 
observation  as  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
at  last,  after  draining  his  third  cup  of 
coffee — and  the  pot  itself,  if  he  had  but 
known  it. 

"Went  to  the  spot?"  asked  Anthony, 
leaning  back  also  with  the  expression  of 


ioo  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

the  friendly  host.  He  was  young  to  culti- 
vate that  expression,  but  he  appeared 
to  find  no  difficulty  about  it. 

"  It  did — every  last  mouthful." 

"Good.  Now,  if  you  fellows  will  come 
back  to  the  fire  and  have  a  pipeful  of  talk 
we  shall  not  be  missed.  In  this  house  on 
ordinary  occasions  we  reverse  the  order  of 
after-dinner  privileges — the  men  retire  to 
the  atmosphere  of  the  sofa-pillows,  and  the 
women — I'm  not  allowed  to  tell  what  they 
do.  But  after  remaining  discreetly  out  of 
sight  for  some  little  time,  during  which  faint 
sounds  as  of  the  rattle  of  china  penetrate 
through  closed  doors,  they  reappear,  pleas- 
antly flushed  and  full  of  a  sort  of  relieved 
joy." 

"  I  know  what  I  wish,"  said  Roger  Barnes, 
looking  back  from  the  dining-room  doorway 
at  young  Mrs.  Robeson;  "  I  wish  that  when 
the  dishes  are  all  ready  you  would  let  me 
know.  I  should  like  nothing  better  than 
to  have  a  dish-towel  at  them.  I  know  all 
about  it — my  mother  taught  me  how." 

He  looked  so  precisely  as  if  he  meant  it, 
and  the  glance  he  sent  past  Juliet  at  Rachel 
Redding  was  so  suggestive  of  his  dislike 
to  be  separated  for  the  coming  hour  from 


A  Bachelor  at  Dinner  101 

the  feminine  portion  of  the  household,  that 
his  hostess  answered  promptly :  "Of  course 
you  may.  We  never  refuse  an  offer  like 
that.  We  will  try  you — on  promise  of  good 
behaviour." 


XII. — THE  BACHELOR  BEGS  A  DISH-TOWEL 

WHEN  the  door  closed  on  the  three  Juliet 
produced  from  somewhere  two  aprons — 
attractive  affairs  on  the  pinafore  order — 
one  of  which  she  slipped  upon  Rachel,  the 
other  donned  herself. 

"These  are  my  kitchen  party-aprons," 
she  said  gayly,  noting  how  the  pretty  gar- 
ment became  the  girl,  "calculated  to  im- 
press the  masculine  mind  with  the  charm 
of  domesticity  in  women.  The  doctor  needs 
a  little  illustrated  lesson  of  the  sort.  Life 
in  boarding-houses  isn't  adapted  to  encour- 
age a  man  in  the  belief  that  real  comfort  is 
to  be  found  anywhere  outside  of  a  bache- 
lor's club." 

Before  he  was  called  the  doctor  forsook  a 
half-smoked  cigar  and  the  seductive  hollows 
of  Anthony's  easiest  chair  and  marched 
briskly  out  to  the  kitchen. 

"You  see  I  distrust  you,"  he  announced, 
putting  in  his  head  at  the  door.  "I'm 
afraid  you  will  get  them  all  done  without 
me." 

102 


The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel      103 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  Here  you  are,"  and 
Juliet  tied  a  big  white  apron  about  a  large- 
sized  waist.  "  Here's  your  towel.  No, 
don't  touch  the  glass;  a  man  is  too  uncon- 
scious of  his  strength." 

"A  surgeon?"  demurred  Rachel  softly, 
from  over  her  steaming  dishpan. 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Redding,"  said  the 
doctor,  smiling. 

"Ah,  how  stupid  of  me,"  Juliet  made 
amends  swiftly.  "  Miss  Redding  remem- 
bers that  when  I  got  my  telephone  message 
to-night  I  told  her  that  the  most  dis- 
tinguished young  specialist  in  the  city  was 
coming  here  to  dinner.  A  hand  trained 
to  such  delicate  tasks  as  those  of  surgery — 
here,  Dr.  Roger  Barnes,  forgive  me,  and 
wipe  my  most  precious  goblets." 

"You'll  have  my  nerves  unsteady  with 
such  speeches  as  that,"  said  he,  but  he 
accepted  the  trust.  He  held  the  goblets  and 
the  other  daintily  cut  and  engraved  pieces 
of  glass  with  evident  pleasure  in  the  task. 

Meanwhile  Juliet  and  Rachel  made  rapid 
work  of  the  greater  part  of  the  dishes, 
handling  thin  china  with  the  dexterity  of 
housewives  who  love  their  work — and  their 
china.  Talk  and  laughter  flowed  brightly 


104  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

through  it  all,  and  when  the  doctor  had 
finished  his  glass  he  looked  disappointed  at 
seeing  not  much  left  to  do.  At  the  moment 
Rachel  was  scrubbing  and  scraping  a  big 
baking-dish,  portions  of  whose  surface 
strongly  resisted  her  efforts,  in  spite  of  pre- 
vious soaking.  The  assistant,  looking  about 
him  for  new  worlds  to  conquer,  fell  upon  this 
dish. 

"Here,  here,"  said  he,  "let  me  have  it. 
I'll  use  on  it  some  of  the  unconscious 
strength  Mrs.  Robeson  credits  me  with." 

But  Rachel  clung  to  the  dish.  "  Proper 
housekeepers,"  she  averred,  "always  say 
'  That's  all,  thank  you,'  as  soon  as  the  china 
is  done,  and  finish  the  pots  and  kettles 
after  the  guest  has  gone  back  to  pleasanter 
things." 

"I  see.  Did  you  ever  have  a  man  for 
dish-wiper  before  ? " 

"Never  a  surgeon,"  admitted  Miss  Red- 
ding. 

"  Then  you  don't  appreciate  the  fact 
that  a  man  likes  to  do  big  things  which 
make  the  most  show  and  get  the  credit  for 
them." 

He  took  the  dish  away  from  her  by  a 
dexterous  little  twist  in  which  conscious 


The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel      105 

strength  certainly  asserted  itself.  Rachel, 
laughing,  with  a  dash  of  colour  in  cheeks 
which  were  normally  of  dark  ivory  tints, 
accepted  the  dish-towel  he  handed  her. 

"  Hallo,  there,"  cried  Wayne  Carey's  voice 
from  the  door.  "You're  having  more  fun 
out  here  than  we  are  in  there,  and  that's 
not  fair.  The  lord  of  the  manor  is  getting 
so  chesty  over  the  delights  of  a  country 
home  in  a  February  snowbank  that  he's 
becoming  heavy  company." 

"No  room  for  you  here,"  returned  the 
doctor,  removing  with  a  flourish  the  last 
candied  sugar  lump  from  the  bottom  of  the 
big  dish,  and  beginning  to  swash  about 
vigorously  in  the  hot  water.  "  We  do  some- 
thing besides  talk  out  here;  we  work.  Our 
kitchen  is  so  small  we  have  to  waste  no 
time  in  steps ;  as  we  dry  the  things  we  chuck 
them  straight  into  their  places." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  he  caught 
up  a  shining  cake-tin  and  cast  it  straight  at 
Carey.  That  gentleman  dodged,  but  An- 
thony caught  it,  performed  upon  it  an 
imitation  of  the  cymbals,  then  turned  about 
and  laid  it  in  a  nest  of  similar  tins  upon  a 
shelf  in  an  open  closet. 


io6  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Ah,  but  I'm  well  trained,"  he  boasted. 

"  If  you  were  you  wouldn't  put  it  away 
wet,"  observed  Rachel  slyly. 

Anthony  withdrew  the  tin,  wiped  it  with 
much  solicitude,  and  replaced  it. 

"These  little  technicalities  are  beyond 
me,"  he  apologised.  "Your  real  athlete  in 
kitchen  work  is  your  scientific  man.  See 
him  dry  that  bean-pot  with  the  glass-towel. 
Now,  I  know  better  than  that." 

"Go  away,  all  of  you,"  commanded  the' 
mistress  of  the  place.  "  Go  back  to  the 
fire  and  we'll  join  you.  If  you  are  very 
good  we'll  bring  you  a  special  treat  by-and- 
by." 

"That  settles  it,"  said  the  doctor,  and 
led  the  retreat,  but  not  without  a  backward 
glance  at  the  little  kitchen. 

Juliet  had  gone  into  the  dining-room 
with  a  trayful  of  glass  and  silver.  Rachel 
Redding  was  plunging  half  a  dozen  white 
towels  into  a  pan  of  steaming  water.  Barnes 
stood  an  instant,  staring  hard  at  the  slender 
figure  in  the  white  pinafore,  the  round  young 
arms  gleaming  in  the  lamplight — then  he 
turned  to  follow  the  others.  There  are 
some  pictures  which  linger  long  in  a  man's 
memory;  why,  he  can  hardly  tell.  With 


The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel      107 

all  his  varied  experiences  Dr.  Roger  Barnes 
had  never  before  discovered  how  attractive 
a  background  a  well-kept  kitchen  makes 
for  a  beautiful  woman,  so  that  she  be  there 
mistress  of  the  situation.  Long  after  he 
had  gone  back  to  the  fire  his  absent  eyes, 
while  the  others  talked,  were  studying  the — 
to  him  —  unaccustomed  and  singularly 
charming  scene  he  had  just  left  in  the 
kitchen. 

When  Juliet  and  Rachel  came  in  at  length 
they  found  a  plan  afoot  for  their  entertain- 
ment. Wayne  Carey  was  standing  at  the 
window  showing  cause  why  the  whole  party 
should  go  out  and  coast  upon  the  hill  near 
by. 

"You  admit,"  he  argued  with  Anthony, 
"that  you  know  where  we  can  get  a  pair 
of  bobs — and  if  you  can't  I'll  bribe  some  of 
those  youngsters  out  there  to  let  us  have 
theirs.  The  storm  has  stopped;  the  boys 
have  swept  off  the  whole  hill,  I  should  judge, 
by  the  way  their  track  shines  again  under 
the  moonlight.  I  haven't  had  a  good  coast 
since  I  left  college." 

He  turned  to  Juliet.  "Will  you  go?"  he 
asked  coaxingly. 

"Of  course  we  will,"   promised  Juliet. 


io8  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  Tony  wants  to  go — he's  just  enjoying  mak- 
ing you  tease.  As  for  the  doctor— 

"  If  my  right  hand  has  not  forgot  her  cun- 
ning," he  agreed. 

In  ten  minutes  the  party  was  off.  A 
young  matron  of  five  months'  standing  is 
not  so  materially  changed  from  the  girl  she 
used  to  be  that  she  can  fail  to  be  the  gayest 
of  company,  perhaps  with  the  more  zest 
that  the  old  good  times  seem  a  bit  far  away 
already  and  she  is  glad  to  bring  them  back. 

As  for  the  real  girl  of  the  party,  in  this 
case  it  chanced  to  be  a  country  lass  who  had 
been  away  to  school  and  half-way  through 
college,  had  been  brought  home  by  love 
and  duty  to  some  elderly  people  who  needed 
her,  and  had  known  many  hours  of  stifled 
longing  for  the  sort  of  companionship  with 
which  she  had  grown  happily  familiar. 

Matron  and  maid — they  were  a  pair  for 
whose  sakes  the  men  who  were  with  them 
gladly  made  slaves  of  themselves  to  give 
them  an  evening  of  glorious  outdoor  fun — 
and  at  small  sacrifice. 

"What  a  night!"  exulted  the  doctor, 
striding  up  the  long  hill  beside  Rachel 
Redding  breathing  deep.  "  I'm  thanking 


The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel      109 

all  my  lucky  stars  that  they  led  my  path 
across  Anthony  Robeson's  to-night.  I've 
been  intending  to  come  out  here  ever  since 
he  was  married — and  might  not  have  done 
it  for  another  six  months  if  I  hadn't  got 
started.  He'll  have  all  he  wants  of  me  now. 
It's  the  most  delightful  spot  I've  been  in  for 
many  moons." 

"It  is  a  dear  little  home,"  agreed  Rachel 
warmly.  "Mrs.  Robeson  would  make  the 
most  commonplace  house  in  the  world  one 
where  everybody  would  want  to  come." 

"That's  evident.  Yet,  somehow,  know- 
ing her  well  as  a  girl,  I  never  should  have 
suspected  just  those  home-making  qualities. 
You  didn't  know  her  then,  I  suppose? 
She  was  a  girl  other  girls  liked  heartily,  and 
men  enthusiastically — one  of  the  '  I'll  be  a 
good  friend,  but  don't  come  too  near '  sort, 
you  know.  But  she  was  very  fond  of 
travel  and  change,  ready  for  everything  in 
the  way  of  sport — and,  well,  I  certainly 
never  saw  her  before  in  anything  resembling 
an  apron  of  any  description.  What  a  de- 
lightful article  of  attire  an  apron  is,  any- 
how. I  think  I  never  appreciated  it  before 
to-night." 

"That's  because  you  never  saw  one  of 


no  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Mrs.  Robeson's  aprons.  Hers  are  not  like 
other  people's." 

"She  makes  hers  poetic,  does  she?" 

"  She  certainly  does — even  the  ones  for 
baking  and  sweeping.  Not  ruffled  or  be- 
ribboned,  but  cut  with  an  eye  to  attractive- 
ness, and  always  of  becoming  colour." 

"  I  see.  She's  an  artist — that  was  notice- 
able in  the  oysters —  if  she  made  the  dish." 

"  Of  course  she  did." 

"The  coffee  was  the  best  I  ever  drank." 

"Was  it?" 

"You  made  that,  then,"  remarked  the 
doctor  astutely. 

"I'm  glad  it  was  good,"  said  Rachel 
demurely. 

They  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill. 
Doctor  Barnes  insisted  that  Anthony  had 
been  the  best  steerer  of  coasting  parties 
known  to  the  juvenile  world,  and  placed 
him  at  the  helm.  Next  came  Juliet,  with 
both  arms  clasped  as  far  about  her  hus- 
band's stalwart  frame  as  they  would  go. 
Carey  had  wanted  to  be  the  end  man,  but 
Doctor  Barnes  would  have  none  of  it. 
"You  have  to  take  care  of  Mrs.  Robeson," 
he  said  firmly,  and  placed  him  next.  This 
brought  Miss  Redding  last,  and  Dr.  Rogei 


The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel      m 

Barnes,  knowing  man,  as  hanger-on  behind 
upon  bobs  already  fairly  full.  The  last 
man,  as  every  coaster  understands,  has  to 
be  alert  to  help  out  any  possible  bad  steer- 
ing, and  so  keeps  a  watchful  head  thrust 
half  over  the  shoulder  in  front. 

The  foregoing  explanation  will  show  how 
it. came  about  that  all  down  the  long,  swift 
descent,  Rachel,  breathless  with  the  un- 
accustomed delight  of  the  flight,  felt  upon 
her  cheek  a  warm  breath,  and  was  con- 
scious of  a  most  extraordinary  nearness 
of  the  lips  which  kept  saying  merry  things 
into  her  ear.  The  ear  itself  grew  warm 
before  the  bottom  of  the  track  was  reached. 

"That  was  a  great  coast,"  cried  the  doc- 
tor as  they  reached  the  end  of  the  long  slide. 
"  Now  for  another.  I'm  a  boy  again.  This 
beats  the  best  thing  I  could  have  had  in 
town  if  I  hadn't  run  across  Anthony." 

So  they  had  another — and  another — and 
one  more.  Then  Rachel  Redding,  stopping 
in  front  of  a  small  house  which  lay  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  said  good-night  to  them 
and  slipped  away  before  Barnes  had  real- 
ised what  had  happened. 

•  *•••• 

"Does   she   live   there?"   he   questioned 


H2  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Juliet,  as  the  four  who  were  left  moved  on 
toward  home.  Anthony  and  Wayne  were 
discussing  a  subject  on  which  they  had 
differed  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  "  Somehow, 
I  got  the  impression  she  lived  with  you." 

"  No — but  she  comes  over  a  good  deal 
I  couldn't  get  on  without  her." 

"As  a  friend?" 

Juliet  looked  up  at  him.  "I  think  ii 
would  be  better  that  you  should  know, 
Roger,"  she  said,  "and  I'm  sure  Miss  Red- 
ding herself  would  prefer  it — that  I  pay 
her  for  several  hours  a  day  of  regular  work. 
You've  only  to  see  her  to  understand  that 
she  does  this  simply  because  it's  the  only 
thing  open  to  her  as  long  as  her  father  and 
mother  can't  spare  her  to  go  away.  She 
gave  up  her  college  course  in  the  middle 
because  she  said  they  were  pining  to  death 
for  her.  They  are  in  very  greatly  reduced 
circumstances,  after  a  lifetime  of  prosperity. 
She's  a  rare  creature — I'm  learning  to 
appreciate  her  more  every  day.  She's  never 
said  a  word  about  her  loneliness  here,  but 
it  shows  in  her  eyes.  It's  a  perfect  delight 
to  me  to  have  her  with  me,  and  I  mean  to 
give  her  all  the  fun  I  can.  For  all  that 
demure  manner  and  her  Madonna  face  she's 


The  Bachelor  Begs  a  Dish-Towel      113 

as  full  of  mischief  as  a  kitten  when  some- 
thing starts  her  off." 

"Juliet,"  said  the  doctor  soberly,  turning 
to  look  searchingly  down  at  her  in  the 
moonlight,  "would  you  be  willing  to  let 
me  come  often?" 

Juliet  looked  up  quickly.  "  So  that  you 
may  see  her? "  she  asked  straightforwardly. 

"Yes.  I  won't  pretend  it's  anything 
else.  I  can  tell  you  honestly  that  if  there 
were  no  other  reason  I  should  want  to  come 
because  of  my  old  friendship  for  you  and 
Anthony,  and  because  this  evening  in  your 
little  home  has  given  me  a  rare  pleasure. 
I  know  of  no  place  like  it.  But  I'll  tell  you 
squarely  that  I  want  the  chance  to  meet 
your  friend  often  and  at  once.  If  I  don't 
you  will  have  other  people  coming  out  from 
town " 

"  Yes,"  said  Juliet,  and  something  in  the 
way  she  said  it  made  him  ask  quickly :  "  Has 
that  already  happened?  Am  I  too  late?" 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you're  too  late, 
but  I  know  that  we've  suddenly  grown 
most  attractive  to  another  man  from  town. 
If  you  had  gone  into  Rachel's  home  the 
odour  of  violets  would  have  met  you  at  the 
door.  He  sends  them  every  few  days." 


1 14  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Ah!"  said  the  doctor.  It  was  not  much 
of  a  comment,  but  it  spoke  volumes.  He 
had  been  keen  before — he  was  determined 
now.  Violets — well,  there  were  rarer  flowers 
than  those. 


XIII.    SMOKE  AND  TALK 

At  the  house  there  remained  for  the 
guests  an  hour  before  the  fire,  where  Juliet 
brought  in  something  hot  and  sweet  and 
sour  and  spicy,  which  tasted  delicious  and 
brought  her  a  shower  of  compliments  while 
they  drank  a  friendly  draught  to  her.  When 
she  had  left  them,  standing  in  an  admiring 
group  on  the  hearth-rug  and  wishing  her 
happy  dreams,  they  settled  into  luxurious 
positions  of  ease  before  the  fire — a  fire  in 
the  last  stages  of  red  comfort  before  it  dies 
into  a  smoulder  of  torrid  ashes. 

"Anthony  Robeson,"  said  Wayne  Carey, 
regarding  the  andirons  fixedly  over  his  bed- 
time pipe,  "you're  a  happy  man." 

Anthony  laughed  contentedly.  He  had 
thrown  himself  down  upon  the  hearth-rug 
with  his  head  on  a  pillow  pulled  from  the 
settle,  and  lay  flat  on  his  back  with  his 
hands  clasped  behind  his  neck.  It  was  an 
attitude  deeply  expressive  of  masculine 
comfort. 

"5 


n6  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"You're  exactly  right,"  said  he.  "And 
you  would  be  the  same  if  you  would  give 
up  living  in  that  infernal  boarding-house. 
What  do  you  want  to  fool  with  your  first 
year  of  married  life  like  that  for?  You 
told  me  that  Judith  was  bowled  over  by 
our  wedding,  and  was  ready  to  go  in  for  this 
sort  of^thing  with  a  will." 

"I  know  it,"  admitted  Carey,  "but"- 
he  spoke  hesitatingly — "we  couldn't  seem 
to  find  this  sort  of  thing.     You  had  cor- 
ralled all  there  was." 

"Nonsense." 

"You  had.  Everything  we  looked  at 
was  so  old  and  mouldy,  or  so  new  and  in- 
artistic, or  so  high-priced,  or  so  far  away — 
well,  we  couldn't  seem  to  get  at  it,  so  we 
said  we'd  board  a  while  and  wait  until  we 
could  look  around." 

"  How  does  it  work?  " 

"Why,  I  suppose  it  works  very  well," 
said  Carey  cautiously.  "Judith  seems  con- 
tented. We  have  as  good  meals  as  the 
average  in  such  houses,  and  the  people  are 
rather  a  nice  lot.  We're  invited  around 
quite  a  good  deal,  and  Judith  likes  that. 
I  ought  to  like  it  better  than  I  do,  somehow. 
I'm  so  confoundedly  tired  when  I  get  home 


Smoke  and  Talk 


117 


nights  I  can't  help  thinking  of  you  and 
Juliet  here  in  this  jolly  room.  There's  an 
abominable  blue  and  yellow  wall-paper  on 
our  sitting-room — and  it  has  a  way  of  ap- 
pearing to  turn  seasick  in  the  evening  under 
the  electrics.  Sometimes  I  think  it's  that 
that  makes  me  feel— 

"Seasick,  too?"  inquired  the  doctor  with 
his  professional  air.  He  was  standing  with 
his  arm  on  the  chimney-piece,  looking  al- 
ternately down  on  his  friends  and  around 
the  long,  low  room.  It  was  a  jolly  room— 
the  very  essence  of  comfort  and  cosiness. 
It  was  a  beautiful  room,  too,  in  a  simple 
way;  one  which  satisfied  his  sense  of  har- 
mony in  colours  and  fabrics — a  keen  sense 
with  him,  as  it  is  apt  to  be  with  men  of  his 
profession. 

"  Judith  likes  this,  too,  you  know,"  Carey 
went  on  loyally.  "  She  thinks  it's  great. 
But  how  to  get  it  for  ourselves — that's 
another  matter.  Somehow,  you  were 
lucky." 

"  Did  you  ever  happen  to  see,"  asked 
Anthony,  "  a  photograph  I  took,  just  for 
fun,  of  this  house  as  it  was  when  Juliet  saw 
it  first?  No?  Well,  just  look  in  that  box 
on  the  end  of  the  farther  bookcase,  will 


n8  The  Indifference  or  Juliet 

you?    It's  near  the  top — there — that's  it." 

He  lay  looking  up  through  half-closed 
lashes  at  the  two  men  as  they  studied  the 
photograph,  the  doctor  leaning  over  Carey's 
shoulder. 

"On  your  word,  man,  did  it  look  like 
that?"  cried  Barnes. 

"Just  like  that." 

"  Yes,  I've  heard  it  did,"  admitted  Carey; 
"but  I  never  quite  believed  it  could  have 
been  as  bad  as  that." 

"Who  planned  it  all?"  the  doctor  asked, 
getting  possession  of  the  photograph  as 
Carey  laid  it  down,  and  giving  it  careful 
scrutiny. 

"My  little  home-maker." 

"Jove — are  there  any  more  like  her?" 

"They're  pretty  rare,  I  understand. 
Juliet  has  one  in  training — one  with  a  good 
deal  of  native  capacity,  I  should  judge." 

"  Let  me  know  when  her  graduation  day 
approaches,"  remarked  the  doctor. 

When  he  fell  asleep  that  night  in  the 
dainty  guest-room  Barnes  was  wondering 
whether  Mrs.  Robeson  got  her  own  break- 
fasts, and  hoping  that  she  certainly  did  not, 
at  least  when  guests  were  in  the  house.  He 


Smoke  and  Talk  119 

was  down  half  an  hour  earlier  than  neces- 
sary, and  to  his  great  satisfaction  found  a 
slender  figure  brushing  up  ashes  and  setting 
the  fireplace  in  order  for  the  morning  fire. 
As  he  begged  leave  to  help  he  noted  the 
satin  smoothness  of  Miss  Redding' s  heavy 
black  hair  and  the  trim  perfection  of  her 
attire.  She  reminded  him  of  his  hospital 
nurses  in  their  immaculate  blue  and  white. 
When  he  saw  the  mistress  of  the  house  and 
found  her  similarly  dressed  a  certain  skep- 
ticism grew  in  his  mind. 

When  he  went  out  to  breakfast  he  mur- 
mured in  Anthony's  ear:  "  Just  tell  me,  old 
fellow — to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  a  bach- 
elor —  do  these  girls  of  your  household 
always  look  like  this  in  the  early  morn- 
ing? I  know  it's  mean  —  but  you  will 
know  how  to  evade  me  if  I'm  too  imper- 
tinent  " 

Anthony  glanced  from  Juliet,  resembling 
a  pink  carnation  in  her  wash  frock — Feb- 
ruary though  it  was — to  Rachel  Redding  in 
dark  blue  and  white,  and  smiled  mischiev- 
ously. "  Mrs.  Robeson — and  Miss  Redding 
—you  are  challenged,"  he  announced. 
"  Here's  a  fine  old  chump  who  has  an  awful 
suspicion  that  maybe  when  there  are  no 


120  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

guests  you  come  down  in  calico  wrappers 
with  day -bef ore-yesterday's  aprons  on." 

Juliet  gave  the  doctor  a  glance  which 
made  him  pretend  to  shrink  behind  Carey 
j  for  protection.  "  Will  you  please  answer 
•him,  Tony?"  she  said. 

"  On  my  word  and  honour,  Roger  Barnes, 
then,"  said  Anthony  proudly,  "  they  always 
look  like  this." 

When  the  doctor  left  he  was  weighing 
carefully  in  his  mind  an  urgent  problem: 
After  waiting  six  months  before  making 
his  first  visit  at  the  Robesons,  how  soon 
could  he  decently  come  again? 


XIV.    STRAWBERRIES 

"HERE  are  yer  strawberries,  ma'm." 

Juliet,  alone  in  her  little  kitchen,  ran  to 
the  door  in  dismay.  She  looked  down  at  a 
freckle-faced  boy  carrying  a  big  basket 
filled  with  strawberry-boxes. 

"  But  my  order  was  for  next  Wednesday," 
she  said. 

"  Well,  Pa  said  he  cal'lated  you'd  ruther 
have  'em  when  they  was  at  the  best,  an' 
that's-  now.  This  hot  weather's  a  dryin* 
'em  up.  May  not  be  any  good  ones  by 
Wednesday." 

Every  housekeeper  knows  that  if  there 
is  one  thing  particularly  liable  to  happen  it 
is  the  arrival  of  fruit  for  preserving  at  the 
most  inopportune  moment  of  the  week. 
It  matters  little  what  the  excuse  of  the 
sender  may  be — there  is  always  a  sufficient 
reason  why  the  original  date  set  by  the 
buyer  has  been  ignored.  In  this  case  the 
strawberries  had  been  engaged  from  a 
neighbour,  and  Juliet  understood  at  once 
that  she  must  not  refuse  to  take  them. 

121 


122  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

She  stood  looking  at  the  rows  of  baskets 
upon  the  table,  when  the  boy  had  placed 
them  there  and  gone  whistling  away.  She 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  flurry  of  work.  It 
was  Saturday,  and  she  was  cooking  and 
baking,  putting  together  various  dishes  to 
be  used  upon  the  morrow.  Mr.  Horatio 
Marcy  had  lately  returned  from  abroad. 
He  and  Mrs.  Dingley  were  to  spend  the 
coming  Sabbath  with  Juliet  and  Anthony— 
the  first  occasion  on  which  Juliet's  father 
should  be  entertained  in  the  house.  It  was 
an  event  of  importance,  and  his  daughter 
meant  to  show  him  several  things  concern- 
ing her  fitness  for  her  present  position. 

Rachel  Redding  was  not  available  upon 
this  Saturday  morning.  Her  mother  had 
been  taken  seriously  ill  the  night  before, 
and  Rachel  had  sent  word  that  she  could 
not  leave  her.  Juliet  had  not  minded  much, 
although  it  was  a  day  when  Rachel's  help 
would  have  been  especially  acceptable.  As 
it  was,  she  had  reached  a  point  where  her 
housewifely  marshalling  of  the  day's  work 
was  at  a  critical  stage.  A  cake  had  been  put 
into  the  oven.  A  large  bowl  of  soup  stock 
had  been  brought  from  a  cool  retreat  to 
have  the  smooth  coating  of  fat  removed 


Strawberries 


123 


from  its  surface.  Various  other  dishes,  in 
process  of  construction,  awaited  the  skilled 
touch  of  the  cook. 

"  I  shall  have  to  do  them,  I  suppose," 
said  Mrs.  Robeson  to  herself,  regarding  the 
strawberries  with  a  disapproving  eye.  "But 
why  they  had  to  come  to-day " 

She  went  at  the  strawberries,  wishing 
she  had  ordered  less.  They  were  fine 
berries — on  top;  by  degrees,  as  the  boxes 
lowered,  they  became  less  fine.  It  seemed 
desirable  to  separate  the  superior  from  the 
inferior  and  treat  them  differently.  Only 
the  best  would  do  for  the  delectable  pre- 
serve which  was  to  go  into  glasses  and  be 
served  on  special  occasions;  the  others 
could  be  made  into  jam  less  attractive  to 
the  eye  if  hardly  less  acceptable  to  the 
palate.  Juliet  was  obliged  to  put  down 
her  berry-boxes  every  fifth  minute  to  attend 
to  one  or  other  of  the  various  saucepans 
and  double-boilers  upon  the  little  range. 
Her  cheeks  grew  flushed,  for  the  day  was 
hot  and  the  kitchen  hotter.  It  must  be 
admitted  that  her  occasional  glance  out 
over  the  green  fields  and  the  woods  beyond 
was  a  longing  one. 

The  better  selection  of  the  berries  went 


124  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

into  the  clear  syrup  in  the  preserving- 
kettle.  Juliet  flew  to  get  her  glass  pots 
ready.  She  stopped  to  stir  something  in  a 
saucepan.  She  thrust  some  eggs  into  the 
small  ice-chest  to  cool  them  for  the  salad 
dressing  soon  to  be  made.  She  kept  one 
eye  on  the  clock,  for  the  strawberry  preserve 
had  to  be  timed  to  a  minute — ten,  no  more, 
no  less.  It  was  a  strenuous  hour. 

As  she  dipped  up  the  fourth-  ladlef ul  of 
crimson  richness — translucent  as  a  church 
window — and  filled  the  waiting  jar,  a  pecu- 
liar pungent  odour  drifted  across  the 
fragrance  of  the  strawberries.  Juliet 
dropped  her  ladle  and  pulled  open  the  oven 
door. 

The  delicate  cake  which  she  had  com- 
pounded with  especial  care  because  it  was 
Mrs.  Dingley's  favourite,  lay  a  blackened 
ruin.  Some  of  it  had  run  over  upon  the 
oven  bottom  and  become  a  mass  of  cinders. 
Juliet  jerked  the  cake-tin  out  into  the  day- 
light and  shut  the  oven  door  with  a  slam. 

It  was  at  this  unpropitious  moment  that 
a  figure  appeared  in  the  doorway — a  tall, 
slim  figure,  in  crisp,  cool,  white  linen.  A 
charming  white  hat  surmounted  Mrs.  Wayne 
Carey's  carefully  ordered  hair,  a  white 


Strawberries  125 

parasol  in  her  hands  completed  a  particu- 
larly chaste  and  appropriate  morning  toi- 
lette for  a  young  woman  who  had  nothing 
to  do  with  kitchens. 

She  was  regarding  with  interest  the  young 
person  at  the  range.  Juliet  wore  one  of 
her  characteristic  working  frocks,  and  the 
big  pinafore  which  enveloped  it  from  head 
to  foot  was  of  an  attractive  design.  But 
the  morning's  flurry  had  set  its  signs  upon 
her,  and  the  pinafore  was  not  as  immaculate 
as  it  had  been  three  hours  earlier.  Her 
hair,  curling  moistly  about  her  flushed  face, 
had  been  impatiently  pushed  back  more 
than  once,  and  its  disorder,  while  not  un- 
picturesque,  was  suggestive  of  a  somewhat 
perturbed  mind.  Her  hands  were  pink 
with  strawberry  juice.  She  looked  warm, 
tired,  and — if  the  truth  must  be  told — at 
the  moment  not  a  little  out  of  temper. 
The  smile  with  which  she  welcomed  her 
friend  could  hardly  be  said  to  be  one  of 
absolute  pleasure. 

"I'm  afraid  I've  come  at  the  wrong 
time,"  said  Judith,  regretfully.  "Did  you 
just  burn  something?  Too  bad.  I  sup- 
pose all  young  housekeepers  do  that. 
Where's  your — assistant?" 


The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"She's  not  here  to-day,"  said  Juliet, 
ladling  up  strawberry  preserve  with  more 
haste  than  caution.  Her  fingers  shook  a 
little  but  she  kept  her  voice  tranquil.  "  It's 
all  right.  A  number  of  things  had  to  be 
done  at  once,  that's  all.  Please  don't  stay 
in  this  hot  place.  Take  off  your  hat  and 
find  a  cool  corner  somewhere  in  the  house. 
I'll  be  in  presently." 

"  I  mustn't  bother  you.  I  was  going  to 
stay  for  lunch  with  you,  it  was  so  hot  in 
town,  but  I  mustn't  think  of  it  when 
you're  so " 

"Of  course  you'll  stay,"  said  Juliet  with 
decision.  "  What  you  see  before  you  is  only 
the  smoke  of  battle.  It  will  soon  clear 
away.  Run  off — and  I'll  be  with  you  pres- 
ently. You'll  find  the  late  magazines  in 
the  living-room." 

Her  tone  was  intended  to  deceive  and 
it  was  sufficiently  successful.  Judith  was 
anxious  to  stay.  She  was  also  interested 
in  the  situation.  She  had  heard  much 
from  Wayne  in  praise  of  Juliet's  successful 
housekeeping,  and  had  seen  enough  of  it 
herself  to  be  curious  about  its  inner  work- 
ings. For  the  first  time  she  had  happened 
upon  a  scene  which  would  seem  to  indicate 


Strawberries  127 

that  there  were  phases  in  this  sort  of 
domestic  life  less  ideal  than  she  was  asked 
to  believe.  She  went  back  into  the  cool- 
ness and  quiet  of  the  living-room  with  a 
full  appreciation  of  the  fact  that  no  hot 
kitchens  ever  threatened  her  own  peace  of 
mind. 

Juliet  finished  her  strawberry  preserve, 
saw  that  everything  liable  to  burn  was 
removed  to  safe  quarters ;  then  deliberately 
took  off  her  apron  and  stole  out  of  the 
kitchen  door.  She  went  swiftly  down 
through  the  orchard  to  the  willow-bordered 
path  by  the  brook;  then,  out  of  sight  of 
everything  human,  ran  several  rods  down 
it  with  a  sweep  of  skirts  which  put  every- 
thing in  the  bird  creation  to  flight.  At  a 
certain  pleasant  spot  among  the  willows, 
sheltered  from  all  possible  observation,  she 
paused  and  flung  herself  down  upon  the 
warm  ground. 

But  not  in  any  attitude  of  despair. 
Neither  did  she  cry  tears  of  vexation  and 
weariness.  She  was  a  healthy  girl,  with 
the  perfect  physical  being  whose  poise  is 
not  upset  by  so  small  a  matter  as  a  fatiguing 
morning.  Because  a  cake  had  burned,  an 
extra  amount  of  work  had  had  to  be  con- 


ia8  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

quered  and  an  unexpected  guest  had  ar- 
rived, her  nerves  were  not  worn  to  the  rend- 
ing point.  But,  having  been  reared  in  the 
belief  that  a  breath  of  outdoors  is  the  great 
antidote  for  all  physical  or  mental  discom- 
forts born  of  confinement  indoors,  she  had 
acquired  a  habit  of  running  away  from  her 
cares  at  any  and  all  times  of  day  in  pre- 
cisely this  fashion — and  many  were  the 
advantages  she  had  reaped  from  this  some- 
what unusual  course  of  procedure. 

Mrs.  Anthony  Robeson  lay  upon  one  side, 
her  arm  outstretched,  her  cheek  pillowed 
upon  her  arm.  She  was  drawing  long, 
deep  breaths,  and  looking  lazily  off  at  a 
stretch  of  blue  sky  cleft  in  the  exact  centre 
by  one  great  graceful  elm  tree.  One  would 
have  thought  she  had  forgotten  every  care 
in  the  world,  not  to  mention  the  guest  from 
the  city  waiting  expectantly  for  her  hostess 
to  appear.  After  ten  minutes  of  this  sort 
of  indolence  the  figure  in  the  blue  and  white 
print  dress  sat  up,  clasped  both  arms  about 
her  knees  and  remained  regarding  with  half 
closed  eyes  the  softly  fluttering  leaves  of 
the  willows  along  the  edge  of  the  brook. 
The  hot  flush  died  out  of  her  cheeks;  the 
lips  whose  expression  a  few  minutes  since 


Strawberries  129 

had  indicated  self-control  under  a  com- 
bination of  trying  circumstances,  relaxed 
into  their  natural  sweetness  with  a  tendency 
toward  mirth ;  and  her  whole  aspect  became 
that  merely  of  the  young  athlete  resting 
from  one  encounter  and  preparing  herself 
for  another. 

At  length  she  rose,  shook  out  her  skirts, 
and  said  aloud:  "Now,  Judith  Dearborn 
Carey,  I'm  ready  to  upset  your  expecta- 
tions. Since  you  looked  in  at  me  this 
morning  you've  been  thinking  I  wished  I 
hadn't — haven't  you?  Well,  you  may  just 
understand  that  I  don't  wish  anything  of 
the  sort."  And  in  five  minutes  more  she 
had  walked  in  upon  her  guest  by  way  of  the 
front  door,  her  pretty  face  serene,  her 
hands  full  of  pink  June  roses  which  she 
threw  in  a  fragrant  mass  of  beauty  into  her 
friend's  lap. 

"  Put  those  into  bowls  for  me,  will  you? " 
she  requested.  "Arrange  them  to  suit 
yourself.  Aren't  they  lovely?  I  suppose 
you're  getting  hungry.  In  half  an  hour 
you  shall  be  served  with  a  very  modest  but, 
I  trust,  not  insufficient  lunch.  Would  you 
like  hot  chocolate  or  iced  tea? " 

"Iced  tea,  by  all  means,"  chose  Judith, 


130  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

who,  being  used  to  the  privileges  of  selec- 
tion from  a  variety  of  offered  foods  and 
beverages,  was  apt  to  want  what  was  not 
set  before  her,  when  at  a  private  table. 
Juliet  understood  this  propensity  of  her 
friend  and  slyly  took  advantage  of  it.  As  it 
happened,  she  knew  that  at  the  moment  she 
was  quite  out  of  chocolate,  but  she  had 
counted  advisedly  upon  Judith's  choice  on 
a  hot  June  day,  and  she  smiled  to  herself 
as  she  chopped  ice  and  sliced  lemon. 

At  the  end  of  the  half  hour,  Judith,  who 
found  the  coolness  of  the  living-room  too 
delightful  to  allow  her  to  keep  watch  of 
her  friend  in  the  hot  kitchen,  much  as  she 
was  tempted  to  do  so,  was  summoned  to 
an  equally  cool  dining-room.  Upon  the 
bare  table,  daintily  set  out  upon  some  of 
the  embroidered  white  doilies  of  Juliet's 
wedding  linen,  was  a  simple  lunch  of  a  char- 
acter which  appealed  to  the  guest's  critical 
appetite  in  a  way  which  made  her  draw  a 
long  breath  of  satisfaction. 

"  You  certainly  do  have  a  trick  of  serving 
things  to  make  them  taste  better  than 
other  people's,"  she  acknowledged,  glancing 
from  the  little  platter  of  broiled  chicken 
with  its  bit  of  parsley  to  the  crisp  fruit 


Strawberries  131 

salad  made  up  of  she  knew  not  what,  but 
presenting  an  appetising  appearance — then 
regarding  fondly  a  dish  of  spinach,  pleasingly 
flanked  by  thin  slices  of  boiled  egg. 

"  It's  really  too  hot  to  eat  anything  very 
solid,"  agreed  Juliet  with  guile.  "Rachel 
and  I  have  a  way  of  planning  our  lunches  a 
day  or  two  ahead,  so  that  the  leftovers  we 
use  up  are  not  yesterday's  but  the  day 
bef ore's,  and  we  remember  with  surprise 
how  good  the  original  dish  was  far  back  in 
the  past.  I  wish  Anthony  could  have  his 
midday  meal  at  home — though  perhaps  if 
he  did  the  dinners  wouldn't  strike  him  so 
happily.  Don't  you  think  it's  great  fun 
to  see  a  big,  hearty  man  sit  down  at  a  table 
and  look  at  it  with  an  expression  of  ador- 
ation? Women  may  deride  the  fact  as 
they  will,  but  a  healthy  body  does  demand 
good  things  to  eat,  and  shouldn't  be  blamed 
for  liking  them." 

"Wayne  hasn't  much  appetite,"  said 
Judith,  eating  away  with  relish.  "  He  dis- 
likes the  people  at  our  table — sometimes 
I  think  that's  why  he  bolts  his  food  and 
gets  off  in  such  a  hurry.  By  the  way, 
Juliet,  are  you  and  Tony  coming  in  to  the 
Reardons'  to-night?  Of  course  you  are." 


132  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"I  suppose  we  must,"  admitted  Juliet 
with  reluctance.  "  We  have  refused  a  good 
many  things  since  we've  been  here,  but  I 
did  promise  Mrs.  Reardon  we  would  try 
to  come  to-night." 

The  little  repast  over,  Judith  offered, 
with  well  simulated  warmth,  to  help  her 
friend  with  the  after  work.  But  Juliet 
would  have  none  of  her.  She  sent  her 
guest  out  into  a  hammock  under  the  trees, 
and  despatched  the  business  of  putting  the 
little  kitchen  to  rights  with  the  celerity 
of  one  who  means  to  have  done  with  it. 

In  the  middle  of  the  June  afternoon 
Judith  awoke  from  a  nap  in  the  hammock 
to  find  her  hostess  standing  laughing  beside 
her,  fresh  in  a  thin  gown  of  flowered  dimity. 

"  Well,"  yawned  Judith,  heavily,  "  I  must 
have  gone  off  to  sleep.  I  was  tired — I  am 
tireder.  This  is  a  fatiguing  sort  of  weather 
— don't  you  think  so?  But  you  don't  look 
it.  And  after  all  that  work  I  found  you 
in!  Why  aren't  you  used  up?  It  kills  me 
to  do  things  in  the  heat." 

Juliet  dropped  a  big  blue  denim  pillow 
on  the  ground  and  sat  down  upon  it  in  a 
flutter  of  dimity.  She  lifted  a  smiling  face 
and  said  with  spirit: 


Strawberries  133 

"  Last  summer  I  could  walk  miles  over 
a  golf  course  twice  a  day  and  not  mind  it  in 
the  least.  The  year  before  I  was  most  of 
the  time  on  the  river,  rowing  till  I  was  as 
strong  as  a  girl  could  be.  I've  had  gym- 
nasium work  and  fencing  lessons  and  have 
been  brought  up  to  keep  myself  in  perfect 
trim  by  my  baths  and  exercise.  What  frail 
thing  am  I  that  a  little  housework  should 
use  me  up?" 

"Yes — I  know — you  always  did  go  in 
for  that  sort  of  thing,"  reflected  Judith, 
eyeing  her  companion's  fresh  colour  and 
bright  eyes.  "  I  suppose  I  ought,  but  I 
never  cared  for  it — I  don't  mean  the  baths 
and  all  that — of  course  any  self-respecting 
woman  adores  warm  .baths.  I  don't  like 
the  cold  plunges  and^showers  you  always 
add  on." 

"Then  don't  expect  the  results." 

"  It  isn't  everybody  who  has  your  ener- 
getic temperament.  I  hate  golf,  despise 
tennis,  never  rowed  a  stroke  in  my  life,  and 
could  no  more  keep  house  as  you  are  doing 
than  I  could  fly." 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Juliet  demurely,  pre- 
tending to  consider.  "  What  is  it  that  you 
do  like  to  do?" 


134  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"You  know  well  enough.  And  little 
enough  of  it  I  can  get  now  with  a  husband 
who  never  cares  to  stir."  There  was  a 
suspicion  of  bitterness  in  Judith's  voice. 
But  Juliet,  ignoring  it,  went  blithely  on: 

"  I've  a  strong  conviction  that  one  can't 
be  happy  without  being  busy.  Now  that 
I  can't  keep  up  my  athletic  sports  I  should 
become  a  pale  hypochondriac  without  these 
housewifely  affairs  to  employ  me.  I  don't 
like  to  embroider.  I  can't  paint  china. 
I'm  not  a  musician.  I  somehow  don't 
care  to  begin  to  devote  myself  to  clubs  in 
town.  I  love  my  books  and  the  great  out- 
doors— and  plenty  of  action." 

"You're  a  strange  girl,"  was  Judith's 
verdict,  getting  languidly  out  of  the  ham- 
mock, an  hour  later,  after  an  animated  dis- 
cussion with  her  friend  on  various  matters 
touching  on  the  lives  of  both.  "  Either 
you're  a  remarkable  actress  or  you're  as 
contented  as  you  seem  to  be.  I  wish  I  had 
your  enthusiasm.  Everything  bores  me— 
Look  at  this  frock,  after  lying  in  a  hammock ! 
Isn't  white  linen  the  prettiest  thing  when 
you  put  it  on  and  the  most  used  up  when 
you  take  it  off ,  of  any  fabric  known  to  the 
shops?" 


Strawberries  135 

"It  is,  indeed.  But  if  anybody  can 
afford  to  wear  it  it's  you,  who  never  sit 
recklessly  about  on  banks  and  fences,  but 
keep  cool  and  correct  and  stately  and— 

" — discontented.  I  admit  I've  talked 
like  a  fractious  child  all  day.  But  I've 
had  a  good  time  and  want  to  come  of tener 
than  I  have.  May  I  ?  " 

"Of  course  you  may.  Must  you  go? 
I'll  keep  you  to  dinner  and  send  for  Wayne. ' ' 

>(  You're  an  angel,  but  I've  an  engagement 
for  five  o'clock,  and  there's  the  Reardons' 
this  evening.  You  won't  forget  that?  You 
and  Anthony  will  be  sure  to  come?" 

"  I'll  not  promise  absolutely,  but  I'll  see. 
Mrs.  Reardon  was  so  kind  as  to  leave  it 
open.  It's  an  informal  affair,  I  believe?" 

"  Informal,  but  very  gorgeous,  just  the 
same.  She  wouldn't  give  anybody  but  you 
such  an  elastic  invitation  as  that,  and  you 
should  appreciate  her  eagerness  to  get 
you,"  declared  Judith,  who  cared  very 
much  from  whom  her  invitations  came  and 
could  never  understand  her  friend's  care- 
less attitude  toward  the  most  impressive 
of  them. 

Juliet  watched  her  guest  go  down  the 
street,  and  waved  an  affectionate  hand  at 


136  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

her  as  Judith  looked  back  from  her  seat  in 
the  trolley  car.  "Poor  old  Judy,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "  How  glad  you  are  you're 
not  I! — And  how  very,  very  glad  I  am  I'm 
not  you! " 

An  observation,  it  must  be  admitted, 
essentially  feminine.  No  man  is  ever  heard 
to  felicitate  himself  upon  the  fact  that  he  is 
not  some  other  man. 


XV. — ANTHONY  PLAYS  MAID 

AFTER  dinner  that  night,  Juliet,  having 
once  more  put  things  in  order  and  slipped 
off  the  big  pinafore  which  had  kept  her 
spotless,  joined  her  husband  in  the  garden 
up  and  down  which  he  was  comfortably 
pacing,  hands  in  pockets,  pipe  in  mouth. 

"Jolly  spot,  isn't  it?  Come  and  peram- 
bulate," he  suggested. 

"Just  for  a  minute.  Tony,  are  we  going 
to  the  Reardons?" 

He  stood  still  and  considered.  "  I  don't 
know.  Are  we?  Did  you  accept?" 

"On  condition  that  you  felt  like  it.  I 
represented  you  as  coming  home  decidedly 
fagged  these  hot  nights  and  not  always 
caring  to  stir." 

"Wise  schemer!  I  don't  mind  the  as- 
persion on  my  physical  being.  She  urged, 
I  suppose?" 

"  She  did.     I  don't  know  why." 

"I  do."  Anthony  smiled  down  at  his 
wife.  "Everybody  is  a  bit  curious  about 


138  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

us  these  days.     Your  position,  you  see,  is 
considered  very  extraordinary." 
"  Nonsense,  Tony.     Shall  we  go?  " 
"  Possibly  we'd  better,   though  it  racks 
my  soul  to  think  of  dressing.     The  less  I 
wear  my  festive  garments  the  less  I  want 
to.     For    that    very    reason,    suppose    we 
discipline  ourselves  and  go.  Do  you  mind? " 
"  Not  at  all.     We'll  have  to  dress  at  once, 
for  it's  nearly  eight  now,  and  by  the  time 
we  have  caught  a  train  and  got  to  Holly- 
hurst " 

"To  be  sure.  Here  goes,  then." 
Half  an  hour  later  Anthony,  wrestling 
with  a  refractory  cuff  button,  looked  up 
to  see  his  wife  at  his  elbow.  She  was  very 
nearly  a  vision  of  elegance  and  beauty; 
the  lacking  essential  was  explained  to  him 
by  a  voice  very  much  out  of  breath  and  a 
trifle  petulant: 

"  If  you  care  anything  for  me,  Tony,  stop 
everything    and    hook    me    up.     I'm    all 
mixed  up,  and  I  can't  reach,  and  I'm  sure 
I've  torn  that  little  lace  frill  at  the  back." 
"All  right.     Where  do  I  begin?" 
"Under  my  left  arm,  I  think — I  can't 
possibly  see." 

"  Neither  can  I."     He  was  poking  about 


Anthony  Plays  Maid  139 

under  the  lifted  arm,  among  folds  of  filmy 
stuff.  "  Here  we  are — no,  we  aren't.  Does 
this  top  hook  go  in  this  little  pocket  on  the 
other  side?" 

"  I  suppose  so — can't  you  tell  whether  it 
does  by  the  look?" 

"  It  seems  a  bit  blind  to  me,"  murmured 
Anthony,  struggling. 

"  It's  meant  to  be  blind — it  mustn't  show 
when  it's  fastened." 

"  It  certainly  doesn't  now.  Hold  on— 
don't  wriggle.  I've  got  it  now.  I've  found 
the  combination.  Three  turns  to  the  right, 
five  to,  the  left,  clear  around  once,  then— 
Hullo!  I've  come  out  wrong.  The  thing 
doesn't  track  at  the  bottom." 

"You've  missed  a  hook." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  hung  onto  'em  all  the  way 
down." 

"Then  you  missed  an  eye.  You'll  have 
to  unhook  it  all  and  begin  again." 

Anthony  obeyed.  "  I'm  glad  I  don't 
have  to  get  into  my  clothes  around  the 
corner  this  way,"  he  commented.  "Here 
you  are.  We  stuck  to  the  schedule  this 
time." 

"  Wait,  dear.  You  haven't  fastened  the 
shoulder.  There  are  ever  so  many  little 


140  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

hooks   along   there    and   around   the   arm 
hole." 

"  I  should  say  there  were.  What's  the 
good  of  so  many? — Where  do  they  begin? 
Look  out — wait  a  minute — Juliet,  if  you 
don't  stop  twisting  around  so  I  never  can 
do  it.  I  can  do  great,  heroic  acts,  it's 
the  little  trials  that  floor  me — There — 
no! — that  doesn't  look  right." 

Juliet  ran  to  the  mirror.  "It  isn't 
right,"  she  cried.  "Look — that  corner 
shouldn't  lap  over  like  that.  Oh,  if  I  could 
only  reach  myself!" 

"You  can't— I've  often  tried  it.  The 
human  anatomy — Stand  still,  Julie — you're 
getting  nervous." 

"  If  there's  one  thing  that's  trying- 
murmured  Juliet. 

"  Why  do  you  let  your  dressmakers  build 
your  frocks  this  way?  Why  not  get  into 
'em  all  in  front,  where  you  can  see  what 
you're  doing? — Now  I've  got  it.  Isn't  that 
right?" 

"Yes.  Wait,  Tony — here's  the  girdle. 
It  fastens  behind." 

Anthony  surveyed  the  incomprehensible 
affair  of  silk  and  velvet  ribbon  she  put  into 
his  hands.  "Looks  like  a  head-stall  to 


Anthony  Plays  Maid  141 

me,"  he  said.  Juliet  laughed  and  fitted  it 
about  her  own  waist.  Anthony  attempted 
to  make  it  join  at  the  back  of  the  points 
she  held  out  to  him. 

"  It  won't  come  together,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  will.     Draw  it  tight." 

"I  am  drawing  it  tight.  It's  smaller 
than  you  are.  You  can't  wear  it." 

Juliet  laughed  again.     Anthony  tugged. 

"Wait  till  I  hold  my  breath,"  she  said. 

"  Great  guns  / "  he  ejaculated,  and  by 
the  exertion  of  much  force  fastened  the 
girdle.  Then  he  stood  off  a  step  or  two 
and  looked  at  his  wife  curiously.  Flushed 
and  laughing  she  returned  his  gaze. 

"  Can  you  breathe  ? "  he  asked  solicitously. 

"Of  course  I  can." 

"What  with?" 

"It  is  a  little  tight,  of  course/'  she 
admitted.  "  This  is  one  of  my  trousseau 
dresses.  I've  grown  a  little  stouter,  I  sup- 
pose. Never  mind,  I  can  stand  it  for  to- 
night. Thank  you  very  much.  You  must 
hurry  now,  Tony." 

"  I  haven't  had  my  pay  for  playing 
maid,"  he  said,  and  came  close.  He  sur- 
veyed his  wife's  fair  neck  and  shoulders, 
turned  her  around  and  deliberately  kissed 


142  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

the  soft  hollow  where  the  firm  white  flesh 
of  her  neck  met  the  waving  brown  hair 
drawn  lightly  upwards. 

"That's  the  spot  that  tantalized  me  for 
about  six  years,"  he  observed. 

Hunting  hurriedly  through  various 
drawers  and  boxes  in  the  blue-and-white 
room,  in  search  of  gloves  and  fan,  Juliet 
heard  her  husband  come  in  his  turn  to  her 
open  door. 

"Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  look  at 
me?"  he  requested,  in  a  melancholy  voice. 
Juliet  turned,  gave  him  one  glance,  and 
broke  into  a  merry  peal. 

"  Oh,  Tony !— What's  the  matter?  Have 
you  been  growing  stouter,  too? " 

"  It  must  be,"  he  said  solemnly. 

His  clawhammer  coat  was  so  tight  across 
the  shoulders  that  the  strain  was  evident. 
He  was  holding  his  arms  in  the  exaggerated 
position  of  the  small  boy  who  wears  a  last 
year's  suit.  Juliet  revolved  around  her 
husband's  well  built  figure  with  interest. 

"It  does  look  tight,"  she  said.  "But. 
have  you  grown  heavier  all  at  once?  It 
can't  be  long  since  you  wore  that  coat 
before." 

"  Don't  believe  I  have  for  months.     It's 


Anthony  Plays  Maid  143 

been  altogether  frock-coats  and  informals. 
I  haven't  been  to  an  evening  affair  with 
ladies  for  a  good  while." 

"It  doesn't  look  as  it  feels,  I'm  sure. 
It's  getting  very  late — we  ought  to  be  off," 
and  Juliet  gathered  up  her  belongings  and 
gave  him  a  long  loose  coat  to  hold  for  her 
which  covered  her  finery  completely. 

"  Now's  the  hour  when  I  regret  that  I 
haven't  a  carriage  for  you,"  said  Anthony, 
as  they  descended  the  stairs.  He  got  into 
his  outer  coat  reluctantly.  "  I  shall  split 
something  around  my  back  before  the 
evening  is  over,"  he  prophesied  resignedly. 

"  Never  mind.  Remember  how  tight  my 
girdle  is.  It  grows  tighter  every  minute." 

They  got  out  upon  the  porch  and  An- 
thony locked  the  door.  "  If  I  should  show 
that  door-key  to  any  man  I  know  except 
Carey  he  would  howl,"  he  remarked,  hold- 
ing up  the  queer  old  brass  affair  before  he 
slipped  it  into  his  pocket.  He  looked 
down  at  Juliet  in  the  gathering  June  twi- 
light. "  Don't  you  wish  we  didn't  have  to 
go?" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  she  agreed  frankly. 

"Let's  not!" 

"My  dear  boy!     At  this  hour?" 


144  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"We  could  telephone." 

"Shouldn't  you  feel  rather  ashamed  to, 
so  late?" 

"  Not  a  bit.  But  of  course  we'll  go  if  you 
say  so." 

She  laughed,  and  he  joined  her  boyishly. 
She  hesitated. 

"  If  I  see  you  looking  faint  in  that  girdle 
shall  I  throw  a  glass  of  cold  water  over 
you?" 

"  Please  do.  If  I  hear  a  sound  as  of 
rending  cloth  shall  I  divert  the  attention  of 
the  company?" 

"By  all  means." 

They  were  laughing  like  two  children. 
Anthony  sat  down  in  one  of  the  porch 
chairs.  He  drew  a  long  sigh.  "  I  never 
hated  to  leave  my  dear  home  so  since  I 
came  into  it,"  he  said  gloomily. 

Juliet  pulled  off  her  coat.  "  If  you'll 
do  the  telephoning  I'll  stay,"  she  said. 

He  jumped  to  his  feet.  "  Let  me  loosen 
that  girdle  for  you.  I  haven't  been  breath- 
ing below  the  fifth  rib  myself  since  you  put 
it  on,  just  in  sympathy,"  he  declared. 


XVI. — A  HOUSE-PARTY — OUTDOORS 

"  THE  trouble  is,"  said  Anthony  Robeson, 
shifting  his  position  on  the  step  below 
Juliet  so  that  he  could  rest  his  head  against 
her  knee,  "  the  trouble  is  we're  getting  too 
popular." 

Juliet  laughed  and  ran  her  fingers  through 
his  thick  locks,  gently  tweaking  them.  The 
two  were  alone  together  in  the  warm  dark- 
ness of  a  July  evening,  upon  their  own  little 
porch. 

"  It's  the  first  evening  we've  had  to  our- 
selves since  the  big  snowdrift  under  the 
front  windows  melted.  That  was  about 
the  date  Roger  Barnes  met  Louis  Lock- 
wood  here  the  first  time.  Ye  gods — but 
they've  kept  each  other's  footprints  warm 
since  then,  haven't  they?  And  now  Cath- 
cart  is  giving  indications  of  having  con- 
tracted the  fatal  malady.  Can't  Rachel 
Redding  be  incarcerated  somewhere  until 
the  next  moon  is  past?  I  notice  they  all 
have  worse  symptoms  each  third  quarter. 

»4S 


146  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

That  girl  looks  innocent,  but — by  heaven, 
Julie,  I  think  she  has  it  down  fine." 

"  No,  you  don't,"  said  Juliet  persuasively. 
"  I  should  catch  her  at  it  if  she  were  deliber- 
ately trying  to  keep  two  such  men  as  Roger 
and  Louis  pitted  against  each  other.  They're 
doing  it  all  themselves.  I've  known  her  to 
run  away  when  she  saw  one  of  them  coming 
—so  that  she  couldn't  be  found.  But, 
Tony  dear,  I've  a  plan." 

"Good.  I  hope  it's  a  duel  between  the 
two  principals.  If  it  is  I'm  going  to  tamper 
with  the  weapons  and  see  that  each  injures 
himself  past  help.  I'm  getting  a  little 
weary  of  playing  the  hospitable  host  to  a 
trio  of  would-bes." 

"Listen.  We'll  entertain  them  all  at 
once  for  a  week,  with  some  extra  girls,  and 
Judith  and  Wayne,  and  then  we'll  announce 
that  we're  not  at  home  for  a  month." 

' '  All  at  once — a  house-party  ? ' '  Anthony 
sat  up  and  laughed  uproariously.  "  I've 
tremendous  faith  in  you,  love,  but  where 
in  the  name  of  all  the  French  sardines  that 
ever  were  dovetailed  would  you  put  such 
a  crowd?" 

"  I've  a  practical  plan.  Louis  Lockwood 
belongs  to  a  fishing  club  that  spends  every 


A  House-Party — Outdoors  147 

August  up  in  Canada.  They  have  a  big 
tent,  twenty  by  twenty-five,  for  he  told  me 
so  the  other  day.  He  would  get  it  for  us; 
we  would  put  it  out  in  the  orchard,  close 
to  the  river.  You  and  Wayne,  and  Roger 
and  Louis,  and  Stevens  Cathcart  could 
sleep  down  there,  and  I  could  easily  take 
care  of  Judith  and  Suzanne  Gerard  and 
Marie  Dresser,  here  in  the  house.  Rachel 
should  stay  here,  too.  And  Auntie  Dingley 
would  send  down  Mary  McKaim  to  cook 
for  us,  I'm  sure." 

"  That's  not  so  bad.  But  why  Rachel — 
when  you  have  so  little  room?" 

"  Because  I  want  her  to  have  all  the  fun; 
because  if  I  don't  keep  her  here  she  will 
be  running  away  half  the  time;  and  be- 
cause  " 

"  Now  comes  the  real  reason,"  observed 
Anthony  sagely. 

"I  don't  want  the  other  girls  thinking 
she  has  the  unfair  advantage  of  taking  a 
man  away  from  the  party  every  evening  to 
walk  down  home  with  her." 

"Wise  little  chaperon.  I  can  see  Roger 
and  Louis  now,  glaring  at  each  other  as  the 
hour  approaches  for  her  departure." 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  plan?     It's 


148  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

only  a  plan,  you  know,  Tony — subject  to 
your  approval." 

"  Diplomat!  "  murmured  Anthony,  reach- 
ing up  one  arm  and  drawing  it  about  her 
shoulders.  "  You  know  you're  safe  to  have 
my  approval  when  you  put  it  in  that  tone. 
Well,  provided  you  can  figure  out  the 
finances — and  I  know  you  wouldn't  propose 
it  if  you  hadn't  done  that  already — I  don't 
see  any  objection.  On  one  condition, 
though,  Julie,  mind  you — on  one  condition." 

"Name  it." 

"Of  course,  I  can  only  be  here  evenings 
during  your  house  party.  So  my  condition 
is  that  I  have  you  and  the  home  all  to  my- 
self for  my  vacation  afterward.  Not  a 
wooer  nor  a  chum  admitted.  No  over- 
dressed women  out  from  town,  taking  after- 
noon tea — no  invitations  to  lonesome  hus- 
bands out  to  dinner.  Just  you  and  I.  Did 
you  ever  imagine  life  in  the  rural  localities 
would  be  so  gay,  anyhow?  I  want  to  go 
fishing  with  you — tramping  through  the 
woods  with  you — sitting  out  here  on  the 
porch  with  you — in  short,  have  you  all 
to  myself — and" — he  turned  completely 
about,  kneeling  below  her  on  the  step, 
crushing  her  in  both  arms  so  vigorously 


A  House-Party — Outdoors  149 

that  he  stopped  her  breath — "eat — you — • 
up!" 

"What  a  prospect,"  she  cried  softly, 
when  she  found  herself  partially  released. 
."Are  you  sure  you  need  a  vacation,  just 
"for  that?" 

"Certain  of  it.  I've  had  to  share  you 
with  other  people  all  the  year — and  now 
I've  got  to  give  you  up  to  a  jealous  lovers' 
assemblage.  So  after  that,  mind  you,  I 
have  my  satisfaction." 


When  Doctor  Barnes  was  told  of  the  plan 
he  looked  gloomy.  "Going  to  ask  Lock- 
wood?"  he  inquired  at  once. 

"Of  course,"  assented  Juliet  promptly. 

**  I  don't  see  any  ' of  course '  about  it." 

"What  would  Marie  Dresser  do  to  me  if 
I  cfidn't  invite  him?" 

"  He  doesn't  care  for  her " 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  does.  Why,  last  winter  he 
seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  asking  her  to 
marry  him.  Everybody  expected  the  an- 
nouncement any  day." 

"Last  winter  and  this  summer  are  two 
different  propositions." 

"  Marie  doesn't  think  so." 


150  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"She'll  get  mightily  undeceived,  then. 
Whom  else  are  you  asking? " 

"Stevens  Cathcart." 

The  doctor  groaned.  "  Is  this  a  dose 
you're  fixing  for  me?  I'm  going  to  be  too 
busy — I  can't  come." 

"Very  well,"  said  Juliet  placidly.  She 
was  sewing,  upon  the  porch,  and  the  doctor 
sat  on  the  step. 

He  looked  up  with  a  grimace.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  think  I'll  be  out  on  the  next  train 
after  the  rest  arrive." 

"  I  certainly  do,  Dr.  Roger  Williams 
Barnes." 

"I  presume  you  are  inviting  Suzanne?" 
he  queried. 

"Why  not?" 

"  No  reason  why  not.  Cathcart  admires 
her  immensely — or  did,  before  he  began  to 
cultivate  this  place." 

Juliet  laughed.  "Suzanne  would  never 
forgive  you  if  she  heard  that." 

"  By-the-way , "  said  the  doctor  slowly, 
"has  she  ever  met — Miss  Redding?" 

"No." 

He  meditated  for  several  minutes  in 
silence,  while  Juliet  sewed,  glancing  from 
time  to  time  at  one  of  the  most  attractive 


A  House-Party  —  Outdoors  151 

masculine  profiles  with  which  she  was 
familiar.  He  was  not  as  handsome  a  man 
as  Louis  Lockwood,  but  every  line  of  his 
face  stood  for  strength,  not  without  some 
pretensions  to  good  looks.  He  looked  up 
at  length  and  straight  at  her. 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me,"  he  began, 
"just  what  you  intend  to  effect  with  this 
combination?  I  never  gave  you  credit, 
you  know,  Juliet,  for  wanting  to  manage 
Fate,  and  I  don't  believe  it  now." 

"  No,  I  don't  want  to  manage  Fate,"  said 
Juliet,  smiling  over  her  work,  "but  I  admit 
I  want  two  things:  I  want  you  to  see 
Rachel  Redding  beside  Suzanne  Gerard, 
and  —  I  want  Rachel  to  see  you  beside 
Louis  Lockwood  and  —  Suzanne." 

"I  see,"  said  the  doctor  grimly.  "In 
other  words,  you  want  your  protegee  to 
have  fair  play." 

"Just  that,"  Juliet  answered,  more 
gravely  now.  "  I  think  lots  of  you,  Roger, 
and  well  of  you  —  you  know  I  do  —  and 


"And  yet  --  " 

"Let  me  guard  my  girl.  She's  not  like 
the  others,  and  you  and  Louis  are  making 
it  tremendously  hard  for  her  between  you." 


152  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"You  seem  to  be  planning  to  make  it 
infinitely  harder." 

Juliet  shook  her  head.  "  Trust  me,  Roger, 
please." 

"All  right,  I  will,"  promised  the  doctor. 
"But  just  assure  me  that  you're  on  my 
side." 

"I'm  on  nobody's  side,"  was  all  the 
comfort  he  got. 

Juliet's  invitations  received  delighted 
acceptances,  though  Wayne  Carey  and 
Doctor  Barnes  would  be  able  to  come  out 
only  for  the  nights — in  time,  however,  for 
late  and  festive  suppers  outdoors.  The 
tent  in  the  orchard,  with  its  comfortable 
bunks,  was  accepted  by  all  the  men  with 
enthusiasm. 

"And  to  satisfy  the  men  is  the  essential 
thing,  you  know,  Tony,"  Juliet  had  ob- 
served sagely  when  she  saw  their  pleasure  in 
their  quarters.  "  The  girls  will  accept  any 
crowding  together  if  they  have  a  mirror 
and  room  to  tie  a  sash  in,  as  long  as  levoted 
admirers  are  not  wanting." 

The  moment  Miss  Dresser  and  Miss 
Gerard  saw  Miss  Rachel  Redding — to  quote 
Anthony — the  fun  began.  Mrs.  Wayne 
Carey  had  already  met  her,  and  had  been 


A  House-Party — Outdoors  153 

carefully  coached  by  Juliet  as  to  the  bearing 
she  must  assume  toward  Juliet's  new  friend. 
So  when  Marie  and  Suzanne  began  to  inquire 
of  Judith  the  latter  was  prepared  to  answer 
them. 

"She's  a  beauty  in  her  way,  isn't  she?" 
Judith  asserted.  "  Juliet's  immensely  fond 
of  her,  I  should  judge." 

" But  who  is  she? "  demanded  Suzanne. 

"A  neighbour,  a  country  girl,  a  school 
and  college  girl,  a  comparatively  poor  girl — 
and  a  lucky  girl,  for  Juliet  likes  her." 

"  Have  the  men  met  her  before? " 

"  Goodness,  yes.  Haven't  you  heard  how 
they  beg  invitations  home  to  dinner  of 
Anthony,  just  to  see  her?"  Judith  was 
enjoying  the  situation.  This  statement, 
however,  was  no  part  of  Juliet's  coaching. 

"  I  didn't  see  anything  particularly  attrac- 
tive about  her,"  said  Marie  promptly. 
"  She's  a  demure  thing.  One  wouldn't 
think  she  ever  lifted  those  long  lashes  to 
look  at  a  man — but  that's  just  the  kind. 
Awfully  plainly  dressed." 

"  That's  her  style,"  said  Suzanne.  "  These 
poor,  pretty  girls  are  once  in  a  while  just 
clever  enough  to  make  capital  out  of  their 
poverty  by  wearing  simply  fetching  things 


154  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

in  pale  gray  dimity  and  dark  blue  lawn  and 
sunbonnets.  Stevens  Cathcart  would  be 
just  the  kind  to  be  carried  away  with  her. 
Roger  Barnes  wouldn't  look  at  her  twice." 

"  Louis  might  pretend  to  admire  her,  to 
please  Juliet,"  admitted  Marie.  "He  has 
a  way  of  making  every  girl  think  he  is  in 
love  with  her — and  he  is,  to  a  certain  extent. 
But  it's  never  serious." 

Whether  it  were  serious  in  this  instance 
Miss  Dresser  soon  had  opportunity  to  judge. 

After  dinner  that  first  night  Anthony 
proposed  taking  all  his  guests  out  upon  the 
river  in  a  big  flat-boat  he  had  rented.  But 
when  he  made  up  the  party  Rachel  was  not 
to  be  found. 

"  I'm  afraid  she's  gone  home,"  said  Juliet. 

"I'll  run  down  and  see,"  proposed  Lock- 
wood  instantly,  and  was  suiting  the  action 
to  the  word  when  Cathcart  got  off  ahead  of 
him. 

"I'll  have  her  back  presently,"  he  called 
as  he  dashed  down  the  road.  "  You  people 
go  on — we'll  catch  you." 

"We'll  wait  for  you,"  Lockwood  shouted 
after  him. 

"  Why  should  we  wait  ? "  demurred  Marie, 
beginning  to  walk  away  toward  the  river. 


A  House-Party — Outdoors  155 

"  If  we  don't  he's  liable  not  to  find  it  con- 
venient to  catch  up  with  us,"  Lockwood 
retorted. 

"  If  they  prefer  their  own  company  why 
not  let  them  have  it?"  she  said  over  her 
shoulder. 

"Run  along,  Louis,"  murmured  Doctor 
Barnes.  "One  girl  at  a  time." 

He  turned  to  Juliet.  "Shall  we  go?" 
he  said. 

Anthony  caught  his  glance,  and,  laugh- 
ing, turned  to  Suzanne.  "Will  you  con- 
sole an  old  married  man,  Miss  Gerard? "  he 
inquired. 

But  when  Cathcart  reappeared,  which 
he  did  very  soon,  Rachel  was  not  with  him. 
"  She  said  she  had  to  stay  with  her  mother," 
he  explained  in  a  tone  which  so  closely 
resembled  a  growl  that  everybody  laughed. 

"Bear  up,  Stevie,  boy,"  chaffed  Wayne 
Carey.  "I'm  confident  she  likes  you,  butt 
she  may  not  like  you  all  the  time,  you  know. 
They  seldom  do." 


XVII. — RACHEL  CAUSES  ANXIETY 

In  spite  of  all  Juliet's  efforts  to  bring 
about  Rachel's  presence  as  one  of  her  guests 
she  found  herself  unable  to  accomplish  it. 
Whenever  she  was  needed  for  help  Rachel 
was  never  absent,  but  the  moment  she  was 
free  the  girl  was  off,  and  that  quite  without 
the  appearance  of  running  away.  The 
men  of  the  party  followed  her,  but  they  were 
not  allowed  to  remain.  The  girls,  confident 
that  her  disappearances  were  part  of  a  very 
deep  game,  begged  her  to  stay;  it  was  use- 
less. Rachel's  excuses  were  ready,  her 
manner  charmingly  regretful  in  a  quiet 
way,  but  stay  she  would  not. 

Dr.  Roger  Barnes  waylaid  her  one  even- 
ing as  she  was  vanishing  down  the  willow- 
bordered  path  by  the  brook,  leading  to  her 
own  home. 

"Here  you  go  again,"  he  began  discon- 
tentedly. "I  wish  I  knew  why." 

Rachel  paused.  It  was  difficult  to  do 
otherwise  with  a  large  and  determined 
figure  blocking  a  very  narrow  path. 

156 


Rachel  Causes  Anxiety  157 

"  I  have  ever  so  many  things  waiting  at 
home  for  me  to  do." 

"At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening?" 

"At  whatever  hour  I  am  through  at 
Mrs.  Robeson's." 

"I  wish  I  could  imagine  something  of 
what  they  are.  It  might  relieve  my  mind 
a  little." 

"Why,  I  will  tell  you,"  said  Rachel  with 
great  appearance  of  frankness.  "  I  have 
to  do  some  mending  for  mother,  read  the 
evening  paper  for  father,  and  set  the  bread. 
Then  the  clothes  must  be  sprinkled  for 
ironing  in  the  morning." 

The  doctor  studied  her  face  in  the  dim- 
ming light.  "  Who  washed  the  clothes  ? "  he 
asked  bluntly. 

"Do  you  think  you  ought  to  ask?"  said 
Rachel. 

"Yes.  I'm  in  the  habit  of  asking  ques- 
tions." 

"Of  patients- 

"Of  everybody  I  care  for.  You  don't 
have  to  answer,  but  if  you  don't  I  shall 
know  who  did  the  washing." 

"  Yes,  I  did  it,"  said  Rachel  steadily.  "  It 
is  easily  done." 


158  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"And  then  you  came  over  here  and  got 
breakfast?" 

"  Not  at  all.  I  helped  Mrs.  Robeson  and 
Mary  McKairn  get  it.  Doctor  Barnes,  do 
you  know  that  you  are  standing  directly 
in  my  path?" 

"  Certainly, ' '  said  the  doctor.  "  It's  what 
I'm  here  for." 

"Then  I  shall  have  to  go  back  and  take 
the  road  home." 

"  If  you  do  you  will  evade  me  only  to 
encounter  another  man.  Lockwood's  keep- 
ing a  ferret's  eye  on  the  Robeson  house 
door ;  and  I  think  Cathcart  is  already  patrol- 
ling the  road  in  front  of  your  house." 

The  girl  turned.  "You  are  making  me 
feel  very  absurd,"  she  said.  "  I  want  to  go 
home,  Doctor  Barnes.  Please  let  me  pass 
you." 

"  May  I  go  with  you? " 

"I  would  rather  not." 

"Well,  that's  frank,"  he  said,  amusement 
and  chagrin  struggling  for  the  uppermost. 
"  I  wonder  I  don't  stalk  angrily  away — ~  " 

"  I  wish  you  would." 

Roger  Barnes  threw  back  his  head  and 
laughed.  "  I  wish  you  would  give  some 
other  girls  a  leaf  out  of  your  book,"  he  said. 


Rachel  Causes  Anxiety  159 

"The  more  you  turn  me  down  the  more 
ardently  I  long  to  be  with  you;  while  the 
opposite  sort  of  thing — I'll  tell  you,  Miss 
Redding,  if  you  want  to  be  rid  of  me  try 
these  tactics :  Say  with  a  languishing  smile, 
'Oh,  Doctor  Barnes,  won't  you  take  me  a 
little  way  down  this  lovely  path  ? '  Perhaps 
that  will  accomplish  your  ends.  I've  often 
felt  an  instant  desire  not  to  do  the  thing  I'm 
begged  to." 

" '  Oh,  Doctor  Barnes,'"  said  Rachel  Red- 
ding— and  he  caught  the  mischief  in  her 
tone — even  Rachel  could  be  mischievous,  as 
Juliet  had  said — "'won't  you  take  me  a 
little  way  down  this  lovely  path  ? ' ' 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure  in  the 
world,"  replied  the  doctor  promptly,  and 
stood  aside  to  let  her  pass  him.  Where- 
upon she  slipped  by  him,  and  before  he 
could  realise  that  she  had  gone  was  running 
fleetly  away  in  the  twilight  down  the  wind- 
ing, willow -hung  path.  With  an  excla- 
mation he  was  off  after  her,  but  though  he 
dashed  at  the  pace  of  a  hunter  through  the 
intricacies  of  the  way  he  presently  dis- 
covered that  he  was  following  nothing  but 
the  summer  breeze  rustling  the  willow 
leaves  and  wafting  into  his  face  the  breath 


160  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

of  new-cut  hay,  the  aftermath  of  late  July. 
He  stopped  at  length  and  stared  about  him, 
baffled  and  half  angry. 

"There  never  was  a  girl  like  you,"  he 
muttered.  "  If  you  are  deliberately  trying 
to  make  men  mad  to  get  you  you  are  suc- 
ceeding infuriatingly  well.  If  I  catch  you 
to-night  it  will  be  your  fault  if  I  tell  you 
what  I  think  of  you.  I'll  tell  you  now,  for 
I  suppose  you  are  hiding  somewhere  in  this 
undergrowth  till  I  give  it  up  and  you 
can  get  away  home.  You  shall  listen  to 
me  if  you  are  here,  for  you  can't  help 
yourself." 

He  was  speaking  in  a  low,  even  tone, 
walking  slowly  along  the  path  and  peering 
sharply  into  the  bushes  on  both  sides.  Sud- 
denly he  stood  still.  He  had  detected  a 
spot  beside  a  low-hanging  willow  which 
showed  nearly  white  in  the  deepening 
darkness.  Rachel  was  wearing  white 
to-night,  he  remembered.  His  heart 
quickened  its  paces  and  he  paused  an 
instant  to  get  past  a  certain  tightening 
in  his  throat. 

Then  he  bent  forward  and  whispered: 
"  If  that's  not  you  there  I  can  say  what  I 
like,  and  there'll  be  some  satisfaction  in 


Rachel  Causes  Anxiety  161 

that.     If  you'll  speak  now  you  may  save 
yourself,  but  if  you  don't  I've  no  reason  to 

think  it's  you,  and  so  I  can  say " 

There  was  a  sharply  perceptible  noise 
farther  down  the  path  toward  the  Redding 
home.  Barnes  turned  quickly  and  stood 
up  straight,  waiting.  Footsteps  came  rapidly 
along  the  path — no  footsteps  of  hers,  evi- 
dently. A  man's  voice  humming  a  tune 
grew  momentarily  plainer — then  the  voice 
stopped  humming  and  began  to  sing  in  a 
subdued  but  clear  and  fine  barytone : 

"Down  through  the  lane 
Come  I  again 
Seeking,  my  love,  for  you; 
Run  to  me,  dear, 
Losing  all  fear, 
Love  and " 

The  voice  stopped.     Two  men's  figures 
confronted  each  other  in  an  extremely  nar- 
row path.     It  was  not  too  dark  yet  for  each 
to  be   plainly  recognisable   to  the  other. 
"Hallo — that  you,  Lockwood?" 
"  Hi  there,  Roger  Barnes;  what  you  doing 
here?     Fishing?" 

"Looking  for  something  I've  lost." 
"  Getting  pretty  dark  to  find  it.     Some- 
thing valuable  ? " 


162  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Rather.  Think  I'll  give  it  up  for  to- 
night." 

"Too  bad.  Nice  night."  Lockwood 
was  hastening  toward  the  end  of  the  path 
which  came  out  near  Anthony's  house. 
Barnes  looked  after  him  grimly. 

"That  voice  of  yours,  young  man,"  he 
thought,  "handicaps  me  from  the  start. 
Now,  if  I  could  just  warble  my  emotions 
that  way " 

He  turned  and  peered  again  at  the  white 
place  by  the  tree.  He  moved  stealthily 
toward  it,  and  ascertained  presently  that 
it  was  not  what  it  seemed.  He  rose  to  his 
feet  and  walked  rapidly  down  the  path  to 
the  Redding  house.  When  he  came  in  sight 
of  it  he  saw  that  the  kitchen  windows  were 
lighted  and  that  a  man  stood  with  his  arm 
on  the  sill  of  one  of  them.  Silhouetted 
against  the  light  were  the  familiar  outlines 
of  Stevens  Cathcart.  As  Barnes  stood  star- 
ing amazedly  at  this,  a  slender  figure  in 
white  came  to  the  window,  and  in  the  still- 
ness he  could  hear  the  quiet  voice : 

"Please  let  me  close  the  window,  Mr. 
Cathcart.  Thank  you — no — and  good- 
night." 

"'Three  Men  in  a  Boat/  by  Rachel  Red- 


Rachel  Causes  Anxiety  163 

ding,"  murmured  the  doctor  to  himself, 
and  slipped  back  to  the  willow  path,  from 
which  he  at  length  emerged  to  join  the 
group  upon  the  porch — which  then,  it  may 
be  observed,  held  for  the  first  time  that 
night  its  full  complement  of  men. 

Three  big  Chinese  lanterns  shed  a  softly 
pleasant  light  upon  the  porch  and  the  lawn 
at  its  foot.  Suzanne  Gerard  and  Marie 
Dresser  made  a  most  attractive  picture, 
one  in  a  low  chair,  the  other  upon  a  pile  of 
cushions  on  the  step.  Suzanne  lightly 
picked  a  mandolin.  Marie  was  singing 
softly : 

"Down  through  the  lane 
Come  I  again 
Seeking,  my  love,  for  you; 
Run  to  me,  dear, 
Losing  all  fear, 
Love  and  my  life  will  be  true." 

It  was  one  of  the  songs  of  the  summer — 
foolish  words,  seductive  music — everybody 
hummed  it  half  the  time.  Roger  Barnes 
smiled  to  himself,  remembering  where  he 
had  heard  it  last. 

"Come  here  and  give  account,"  com- 
manded Suzanne  the  instant  he  appeared. 
"Every  unmarried  man  vanished  the  mo- 


164  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

ment  twilight  fell.  You  are  the  last  to 
show  your  face.  I  challenge  you,  one  and 
all,  to  swear  that  you  have  not  been  within 
sight  of  a  certain  small  brown  house  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill  since  supper." 

Her  voice  was  music;  in  her  eyes  was 
laughter.  Marie  sang  on,  pointing  her 
words  with  smiles  at  one  and  another  of 
the  culprits. 

From  his  seat  on  the  threshold  of  the 
door,  where  his  head  rested  against  Juliet's 
knee  as  she  sat  behind  him,  Anthony 
laughed  to  himself.  Then  he  turned  his 
head  and  whispered  to  his  wife:  "Feel 
the  claws  through  the  velvet?  Poor  boys, 
they  have  my  sympathy." 


XVIII. — AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY 

"Rachel,"  said  Juliet  decisively,  next 
morning,  "  to-night  is  the  last  of  my  house 
party,  and  I  refuse  to  let  you  off.  I'm 
asking  ten  or  twelve  more  people  out 
from  town.  You  must  spend  this  even- 
ing with  my  guests,  or  forfeit  my  friend- 
ship." 

She  was  smiling  as  she  said  it,  but  her 
tone  was  not  to  be  denied. 

"If  that  is  the  alternative,"  Rachel  an- 
swered, returning  the  smile  with  an  affec- 
tionate look  of  a  sort  which  neither  Louis 
Lockwood  nor  Stevens  Cathcart  nor  Dr. 
Roger  Barnes  had  ever  seen  on  her  face — 
though  they  had  dreamed  of  it — "  of  course 
I  shall  stay.  But  I'll  tell  you  frankly  I 
would  rather  not." 

"Why  not,  Rachel?" 

"  I  think  you  know  why  not,  Mrs.  Robe- 
son,"  Rachel  answered. 

"Yes,  I  know  why  not,"  admitted  Juliet. 
"  Girls  are  queer  things,  Ray.     They  defeat 
their  own  ends  all  the  time — lots  of  them. 
165 


1 66  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Suzanne  and  Marie  are  dear  girls,  with  ever 
so  many  nice  things  about  them,  but  they 
don't — they  don't  know  enough  not  to 
pursue,  chase,  run  down,  the  object  of  their 
desires.  And,  of  course,  the  object,  being 
run  down  panting,  into  a  corner,  dodges, 
evades,  gets  out  and  runs  away.  Rachel, 
dear,  what  are  you  going  to  wear  to-night? " 

"My  best  frock,"  said  Rachel,  smiling. 

"Which  is " 

"White." 

"Cut  out  at  the  neck?" 

"A  little." 

"  Short  in  the  sleeves?  " 

"  To  the  elbows.  It  was  my  sophomore 
evening  dress." 

"It  will  be  all  right,  I  know.  Rachel, 
wear  a  white  rose  in  those  low  black  braids 
of  yours — will  you?  " 

"  No,  I  think  I  won't,"  refused  Rachel. 

"Why  not?" 

Rachel  did  not  answer.  Into  her  cool 
cheek  crept  a  tinge  of  rebellious,  telltale 
colour. 

Juliet  studied  her  a  minute  in  silence,  then 
came  up  to  her  and  laying  both  hands  on 
her  shoulders  looked  up  into  her  eyes. 

"  You  try  to  'play  fair,'  don't  you,  dear?  " 


An  Unknown  Quantity  167 

she  said  heartily,  "whatever  the  rest  may 
do.  And  whatever  they  may  do,  Rachel 
Redding,  don't  you  care.  It's  not  your 
fault  that  they  are  as  jealous  of  you  as  girls 
can  be  and  keep  sweet  outside.  I'd  be 
jealous  of  you  myself  i  -  She  paused, 

laughing. 

"When  you  grow  jealous,"  said  Rachel, 

"it  will  be  because  you  have  grown  blind. 

If  anybody  ever  wore  his  heart  on  his  sleeve 

—no,  not  there — but  beating  sturdily  in  the 

right  place  for  one  woman  in  the  world 

if'c _" 

111    O 

"  Right  you  are,"  said  Anthony  Robeson, 
coming  up  behind  them,  "and  I  hope  you 
may  convince  her  of  it.  She  has  no  con- 
fidence in  her  own  powers." 

Rachel  stood  looking  at  them  a  moment, 
her  dark  eyes  very  bright.  "To  see  you 
two,"  she  said  slowly  at  length,  "is  to 
believe  it  all." 

The  evening  promised  to  be  a  gay  one. 
The  men  of  the  party  had  sent  to  town  for 
many  lanterns,  flags  and  decorations  of  the 
sort,  and  had  made  the  porch  and  lawn  the 
setting  for  a  brilliant  scene.  A  dozen  young 
people  had  been  asked  out,  and  came 
enthusiastically. 


1 68  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"We'll  wind  up  with  a  flourish,"  said 
Anthony  in  his  wife's  ear  as  they  descended 
the  stairs  together,  "and  then  we'll  send 
them  all  off  to-morrow  where  they'll  cease 
from  troubling.  I  think  it  was  the  best  plan 
ill  the  world,  but  I'll  be  glad  to  prowl  about 
my  beloved  home  without  observing  Cath- 
cart  scowling  at  Lockwood,  Roger  Barnes 
evading  Suzanne,  or  even  my  good  boy 
Wayne  with  that  eternal  wonder  on  his 
face  as  to  why  his  flat  does  not  look  like  our 
Eden." 

"  Hush — and  don't  look  too  happy  to- 
morrow, Tony.  Oh,  here  comes  Rachel. 
Isn't  she  lovely?" 

"Now,  watch,"  murmured  Anthony,  his 
face  full  of  amusement.  "  It's  as  good  as 
the  best  comedy  I  ever  saw.  See  Suzanne. 
She  never  looked  toward  Rachel,  but  don't 
tell  me  she  wasn't  aware  of  the  very  in- 
stant Rachel  came  upon  the  porch.  I 
believe  she  read  it  in  Roger  Barnes's  face. 
I'll  wager  ten  to  one  his  pulse  isn't  count- 
able at  the  present  instant." 

"I  don't  blame  him,"  Juliet  answered, 
smiling  at  her  guests.  "  She's  my  ideal  of  a 
girl  who  won't  hold  out  a  finger  to  the 
men." 


An  Unknown  Quantity  169 

"Yes,  she's  your  sort,"  admitted  An- 
thony. "  I  know  what  it  is — poor  fellows 
— I've  been  through  it.  Your  cold  shoulder 
used  to  warm  up  my  heart  hotter  than  any 
other  girl's  kindness.  Look  at  the  boys 
now.  They  can't  jump  and  run  away  from 
the  other  girls,  but  they'd  like  to.  And 
they're  all  deadly  anxious  for  fear  the 
others  will  get  the  start.  Say,  Julie,  you 
ought  not  to  have  asked  those  new  young- 
sters down  from  town.  They'll  catch  it, 
sure  as  fate;  they're  at  the  susceptible 
age.  I  see  five  of  them  now,  all  staring  at 
Rachel." 

"You  positively  mustn't  stay  here  with 
me  any  longer,"  whispered  Juliet.  "Go 
and  devote  yourself  to  her  and  keep  them 
off  for  a  little." 

"Not  on  your  life,"  Anthony  returned 
"She  can  take  care  of  herself.  If  I  mix 
up  in  this  fray  you're  likely  to  be  hus- 
bandless.  Lockwood  and  Roger  are  get- 
ting dangerous,  and  I'm  going  to  keep  on  the 
outskirts  where  it's  safe." 

They  were  all  upon  the  lawn — Rachel, 
unable  to  help  herself,  according  to  An- 
thony's intimation,  the  centre  of  a  group 
of  men  who  would  not  give  each  other  a 


1 70  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

chance — when  a  stranger  appeared  upon 
the  edge  of  the  circle  of  light.  He  stood 
watching  the  scene  for  a  moment — a  tall, 
slender  fellow,  with  a  pale  face  and  deep- 
set  eyes.  Then  he  asked  somebody  to  tell 
Miss  Redding  that  Mr.  Huntington  would 
like  to  speak  with  her.  Rachel,  thus 
summoned,  rose,  looked  about  her,  caught 
sight  of  the  stranger,  and  went  swiftly 
down  the  lawn.  A  dozen  people,  among 
them  all  the  men  who  had  been  the  guests 
of  the  week,  saw  the  meeting.  They  ob- 
served that  the  newcomer  put  out  both 
hands,  that  his  smile  was  very  bright,  and 
that  he  stood  looking  down  into  Miss  Red- 
ding's  face  as  if  at  sight  of  it  he  had  instantly 
forgotten  everything  else  in  the  world. 

Rachel,  leaving  him,  came  back  up  the 
lawn  to  find  her  hostess.  As  she  passed 
it  became  evident  to  a  good  many  pairs 
of  sharp  eyes  that  her  beauty  had  received 
a  keen  accession  from  the  sweeping  over 
her  cheeks  of  a  burning  blush — so  unusual 
that  they  could  not  fail  to  take  note 
of  it. 

Juliet  came  back  down  the  lawn  with 
Rachel,  who  presented  Mr.  Huntington; 
and  presently,  without  a  word  of  leave- 


An  Unknown  Quantity  171 

taking  to  any  one  else,  the  two  went  away 
down  the  road. 

"  Now,  who  under  the  heavens  was  that  ? " 
grunted  Louis  Lockwood  in  Anthony's  ear, 
catching  his  host  around  the  corner  of  the 
house. 

"Don't  know." 

"  Brother,  perhaps?  " 

"Hasn't  any." 

"Relative?" 

"Don't  know." 

"  Just  a  messenger,  maybe? " 

"Give  it  up." 

"She  blushed  like  anything." 

"Did  she?  Man  she  is  going  to  marry, 
probably." 

"Oh,  that  can't  be!" 

"The  lady  looks  marriageable  to  me," 
observed  Anthony,  strolling  away. 

He  ran  into  Cathcart. 

"  Say,  who  was  that  fellow,  Tony  ? "  began 
Stevens. 

"Don't  ask  me." 

"  He  looked  confoundedly  as  if  he  meant 
to  embrace  her  on  the  spot." 

"  So  he  did,"  agreed  Anthony  soothingly. 
"Don't  blame  him,  do  you?  He  may  not 
have  seen  her  for  a  month.  What  con- 


172  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

dition  do  you  suppose  you'd  be  in  if  a  week 
should  get  away  from  you  out  of  her 
vicinity?" 

"  Bother  you,  Tony — don't  you  know  who 
he  was?" 

"  Intimate  friend,  I  should  judge." 

"She  turned  pink  as  a  carnation." 

"Say  hollyhock,"  suggested  Anthony, 
"or  peony.  Only  a  vivid  colour  could  do 
justice  to  it." 

"  That's  right, ' '  groaned  Cathcart.  "  She 
never  looked  like  that  for  any  of  us." 

"Never,"  said  Anthony  promptly,  and 
got  away,  chuckling. 

"Hold  on,  there,  Robeson,  man,"  said 
the  voice  of  Dr.  Roger  Barnes,  and  Anthony 
found  himself  again  held  up. 

"Come  on,  old  Roger  boy,"  said  his  host 
pleasantly.  "We'll  amble  down  the  road 
a  bit  and  give  you  a  chance  to  get  a  grip  on 
yourself.  No,  I  don't  know  who  he  is. 
I'm  all  worn  out  assuring  Louis  and  Steve 
of  that.  She  did  turn  red,  she  did  look  up- 
set— with  joy,  I  infer.  That  girl  has  made 
more  havoc  in  one  short  week — playing  off 
all  the  while,  too — than  Suzanne  and  Marie 
have  accomplished  in  the  biggest  season 
they  ever  knew.  And  I  believe,  Roger 


An  Unknown  Quantity  173 

boy,  you're  about  the  hardest  hit  of  any 
of  them." 

The  doctor  did  not  answer.  The  two 
had  walked  away  from  the  house  and  were 
marching  arm  in  arm  at  a  good  pace  down 
the  road. 

"She's  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse/'  sug- 
gested Anthony. 

There  was  no  reply. 

"She  has  a  dead  weight  of  a  helpless 
father  and  mother." 

The  doctor  put  match  to  a  cigar. 

"Juliet  says  her  brother  died  of  dissi- 
pation in  a  gambling-house." 

Doctor  Barnes  began  to  chew  hard  on  a 
cigar  that  he  had  failed  to  light. 

"But  she's  a  mighty  sweet  girl,"  said 
Anthony  softly. 

"  See  here,  Tony,"  the  doctor  burst  out. — 
"Oh,  hang  it  all— " 

"I  see,"  said  his  friend,  with  a  hand  on 
his  shoulder.  "  Go  ahead,  Roger  Barnes- 
there 's  nothing  in  life  like  it;  and  the  good 
Lord  have  mercy  on  you,  for  the  sort  of 
girl  worth  caring  for  doesn't  know  the 
meaning  of  the  word." 


174  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"All  gone,  little  girl,"  said  Anthony 
jubilantly,  as  he  turned  back  into  the 
house  the  next  evening,  after  watching  out 
of  sight  the  big  touring-car  of  Lockwood's 
which  had  carried  all  his  house-party  away 
at  once.  "  They  are  mighty  fine  people  and 
I  like  them  all  immensely — but — I  have 
enjoyed  to  the  full  this  speeding  the  part- 
ing guest.  And  now  for  my  vacation.  It 
begins  to-morrow." 

"  What  shall  we  do? "  asked  Juliet,  allow- 
ing him  to  draw  her  into  his  favourite  settle 
corner. 

"Go  fishing.  If  you'll  put  up  a  jolly 
little: — I  mean  a  jolly  big — lunch,  and  array 
yourself  in  unspoilable  attire,  I'll  give  you 
a  day's  great  sport,  whether  we  catch  any 
fish  or  not.  There's  one  fish  you're  sure 
of — he's  always  on  the  end  of  your  line, 
hooked  fast,  and  resigned  to  his  fate.  Juliet, 
are  they  really  all  gone?" 

"  I'm  sure  they  are." 

"Good  Mary  McKaim — peace  be  to  her 
ashes,  for  she  never  gets  any  on  the  toast — 
has  she  gone,  too?" 

"She's  packing." 

"Rachel  safe  at  home  with  her  presum- 
able fiance"?" 


An  Unknown  Quantity  175 

"  He  can't  be  her  fiance,  Tony — ' 

"  That's  what  Lockwood  said — but  I  sup- 
pose he  can,  just  the  same.  Rachel  away, 
do  you  say?" 

"Yes.  She  didn't  come  over  to-day  at 
all,  you  know." 

"  I  noticed  it — by  the  gloom  on  three 
stalwart  men's  faces.  Well,  if  everybody's 
safely  out  of  the  way  I'm  going  to  commit 
myself. ' ' 

''To  what,  Tony?" 

She  was  laughing,  for  he  had  risen,  looked 
all  about  him  with  great  anxiety,  tiptoed 
to  each  door  and  listened  at  it,  and  was  now 
come  back  to  stand  before  her,  smiling 
down  at  her  and  holding  out  his  arms. 

"To  the  statement,"  he  said,  gathering 
her  close  and  speaking  into  her  upturned 
rosy  face,  "that  without  doubt  this  is  the 
dearest  home  in  the  world,  and  that  you 
are  the  sweetest  woman  who  ever  has 
stood  or  ever  will  stand  here  in  it." 


XIX. — ALL  THE  APRIL  STARS  ARE  OUT 

i 

IT  was  an  April  night — balmy  with  the 
breath  of  an  exceptionally  early  spring. 
All  .the  April  stars  were  out  as  Anthony 
came  to  the  door  of  the  little  house,  and 
opening  it  flung  himself  out  upon  the 
porch,  drawing  great  breaths.  He  looked 
up  into  the  sky  and  clasped  his  arms 
tightly  over  his  breast. 

"O  God,"  he  said  aloud,  "take  care 
of  her—" 

He  went  back  into  the  house  after  a 
minute,  and  paced  the  floor  back  and  forth, 
back  and  forth,  stopping  at  each  turn  to 
listen  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs;  then  took 
up  his  stride  again,  his  lips  set,  his  eyes 
dark  with  anxiety.  Ove  and  over  he 
went  to  the  open  door  to  look  up  at  the 
stars,  as  if  somehow  he  could  bear  his  ordeal 
best  outdoors. 

When  half  the  night  had  gone  Mrs. 
Dingley  came  downstairs.  Anthony  met 
her  at  the  foot.  She  smiled  reassuringly 
into  his  face. 

176 


All  the  April  Stars  Are  Out  177 

"This  is  hard  for  you,  dear  boy,"  she 
said.  "  But  they  think  by  morning 

"  Morning! "  he  cried. 

"  Everything  is  going  well— 

"  It's  only  two  o'clock.     Morning! " 

"  She  says  tell  you  she's  going  to  be  very 
happy  soon." 

But  at  that  Anthony  turned  away,  where 
his  face  could  not  be  seen,  and  stood  by  the 
open  door.  Mrs.  Dingley  laid  an  affec- 
tionate hand  on  his  arm.  t 

"Don't  worry,  Tony,"  she  said  gently. 

"I  can't  help  it." 

"This  is  new  to  you.  Juliet  is  young 
and  strong — and  full  of  courage." 

"Bless  her!" 

"In  the  morning  you'll  both  be  very 
happy." 

"I  hope  so." 

"Why,  Anthony,  dear,"  said  the  kindly 
little  woman,  "  I  never  knew  you  to  be  so 
faint  of  heart." 

Anthony  faced  around  again.  "If  my 
strength  could  do  her  any  good  I'd  be  a 
lion  for  her,"  he  said.  "  But  when  all  I 
can  do  is  to  wait — and  think  what  I'd  do 
if " 

He  was  gone  suddenly  into  the  night. 


178  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

With  a  tender  smile  on  her  lips  Mrs. 
Dingley  went  on  upon  the  errand  which  had 
brought  her  downstairs.  "  It's  worth  some- 
thing to  a  woman  to  be  able  to  make  a 
man's  heart  ache  like  that,"  she  said  to 
herself  with  a  little  sigh.  Anthony  would 
not  have  understood,  but  even  in  this 
hour  the  older  woman,  in  her  wisdom,  was 
envying  Juliet. 

Morning  came  at  last,  as  mornings  do. 
With  the  first  Streaks  of  the  gray  dawn 
Anthony  heard  a  little,  high-keyed,  strange 
cry — new  to  his  ears.  He  leaped  up  the 
stairs,  four  at  a  time,  and  paused,  breathless, 
by  the  closed  door  of  the  blue-and-white 
room.  After  what  seemed  to  him  an  in- 
terminable time  Mrs.  Dingley  came  out. 
At  sight  of  Anthony  her  face  broke  into 
smiles,  and  at  the  same  moment  tears 
filled  her  eyes. 

"  It's  a  splendid  boy,  Tony,"  she  said.  "  I 
meant  to  come  to  you  the  first  minute,  but 
I  waited  to  be  perfectly  sure.  He  didn't 
breathe  well  at  first." 

But  Anthony  pushed  this  news  aside 
impatiently.  "Juliet?"  he  questioned 
eagerly. 

"She's  all  right,  you  poor  man,"  Mrs. 


All  the  April  Stars  Are  Out  179 

Dingley  assured  him.  "You  shall  see  her 
presently,  just  for  a  minute.  The  first 
thing  she  said  was,  '  Tell  Tony. '  Go  down 
now — I'll  call  you  soon." 

Anthony  stole  away  downstairs  to  the 
outer  door  again.  This  time  he  ran  out 
upon  the  porch  and  down  the  lawn  and 
orchard,  in  the  early  half-light,  to  the  willow 
path  by  the  brook.  He  dashed  along  this 
path  to  its  end  and  back  again,  as  if  he 
must  in  some  way  give  expression  to  his 
relief  from  the  tension  of  the  night.  But 
he  was  back  and  waiting  impatiently  long 
before  he  received  his  summons  to  his  wife's 
room. 

On  his  way  up  he  wrung  the  friendly 
hand  of  Dr.  Joseph  Wilberforce,  the  best 
man  in  the  city  at  times  like  these,  and 
thanked  him  in  a  few  uneven  words.  Then 
he  came  to  the  door  of  the  blue-and-white 
room. 

"Don't  be  afraid,   Tony,"   said  a  very 
sweet,  clear  voice;  "we're  ever  so  well- 
Anthony  Robeson,  Junior,  and  I." 

Anthony  Robeson,  Senior,  walked  across 
the  room  in  a  dim,  gray  fog  which  obscured 
nearly  everything  except  the  sight  of  a  pair 
of  eyes  which  were  shining  upon  him 


180  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

brightly  enough  to  penetrate  any  fog.  At 
the  bedside  he  dropped  upon  his  knees. 

"I  suppose  I'm  an  awful  chump,"  he 
murmured,  "but  nothing  ever  broke  me 
up  so  in  all  my  life." 

Juliet  laughed.  It  was  not  a  sentimental 
greeting,  but  she  understood  all  it  meant. 
"  But  I'm  so  happy,  dear,"  she  said. 

"Are  you?  Somehow  I  can't  seem  to 
be — yet.  I'm  too  badly  scared." 

"  He's  such  a  beautiful  big  boy." 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  be  devoted  to  him  some 
time,  but  all  I  can  think  of  now  is  to  make 
sure  I've  got  you." 

The  pleasant-faced  nurse  in  her  white 
cap  came  softly  in  and  glanced  at  Tony 
meaningly. 

"  If  you'll  come  in  here  you  may  see  your 
son,  Mr.  Robeson,"  she  said,  and  went  out 
again. 

Anthony  bent  over  his  wife.  "Little 
mother"  he  whispered,  with  a  kiss,  and 
obediently  went. 

Across  the  hall  he  stood  looking  dazedly 
down  at  the  round,  warm  bundle  the  nurse 
laid  in  his  arms. 

"My  son,"  he  said;  "how  odd  that 
sounds." 


All  the  April  Stars  Are  Out  181 

Then  he  hastily  gave  the  bundle  back  to 
the  nurse  and  got  away  downstairs,  wiping 
the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

"Never  dreamed  it  was  going  to  knock 
me  over  like  this,"  he  was  saying  to  himself. 
"  I  can't  look  at  her;  I  can't  look  at  him;  I 
feel  like  a  big  boy  who  has  seen  a  little 
fellow  take  his  thrashing  for  him." 

And  in  this  humble — albeit  most  sincerely 
thankful — frame  of  mind  he  absently  drank 
his  breakfast  coffee,  and  never  realised  that 
in  her  confusion  of  spirit  good  Mary  Mc- 
Kaim,  who  was  here  again  in  time  of  need, 
had  brewed  him  instead  a  powerful  cup  of 
tea. 


XX. — A  PRIOR  CLAIM 

"Come  up,  come  up — you're  just  the 
people  we  want,"  cried  Anthony  heartily 
from  his  own  porch.  "  Thought  you'd  be 
getting  out  to  see  us  some  of  these  fine 
August  nights.  Sit  down — Juliet  will  be 
out  in  a  minute." 

"Baby  asleep?"  asked  Judith  Carey,  as 
she  and  Wayne  settled  comfortably  into 
two  of  the  deep  bamboo  chairs  with  which 
the  porch  was  furnished. 

"To  be  sure  he's  asleep  at  this  hour," 
Anthony  assured  her  proudly;  " been  asleep 
for  two  hours.  Regular  as  a  clock,  that 
youngster..  Nurse  trained  him  right  at  the 
beginning,  and  Juliet  has  kept  it  up.  Four 
months  old  now,  and  sleeps  from  six  at  night 
till  four  in  the  morning  without  waking. 
How's  that?" 

"I    suppose    it's    remarkable,"    agreed 

Wayne  meekly,  "  but  I  don't  know  anything 

about   it.     He    might    sleep    twenty-three 

hours    out    of    twenty-four — I    shouldn't 

182 


A  Prior  Claim  183 

understand  whether  to  call  him  a  prodigy 
or  an  idiot." 

"Why,  yes,  you  would,"  Judith  inter- 
posed with  spirit.  "  Think  of  that  baby  on 
the  floor  above  us.  They're  walking  the 
floor  half  the  night  with  her." 

"Girl  babies  may  be  different,"  Carey 
suggested  diffidently,  at  which  Anthony 
shouted.  "  I  don't  care — all  the  girls  I 
ever  knew  wanted  to  sit  up  nights,"  Carey 
insisted  with  a  feeble  grin. 

Juliet  came  out,  welcoming  her  friends 
with  the  cordiality  for  which  she  was 
famous.  "It's  so  hot  in  town,"  she  con- 
doled with  them.  "You  should  get  out 
into  our  delicious  air  oftener.  Somehow, 
with  our  breezes  we  don't  mind  the  heat." 

"It's  heaven  here,  anyhow,"  sighed 
Carey,  stretching  back  in  his  chair  with  a 
long  breath.  Judith  looked  sober. 

'You  say  it's  heaven,"  commented 
Anthony,  staring  hard  at  his  friend,  "and 
you  profess  to  admire  everything  we  do,  and 
eat,  and  say,  but  you  continue  to  pay  good 
money  every  week  for  a  lot  of  extremely 
dubious  comforts — from  my  point  of  view." 

"  It's  one  of  the  very  best  places  in  that 
part  of  the  city,"  protested  Judith. 


184  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Anthony  eyed  her  keenly.  "Yes;  ii 
that's  what  you're  paying  for  you've  got 
it,  I  admit.  If  it's  a  consolation  to  you  to 
know  that  the  address  you  give  when  you 
go  shopping  is  one  that  you're  not  ashamed 
of  —  why,  you're  all  right.  But  I  reckon 
Juliet  here  doesn't  blush  when  she  orders 
things  sent  home  to  the  country.  '  ' 

"  Oh,  Juliet—"  began  Judith;  "she  doesn't 
need  an  address  to  make  all  the  salespeople 
pay  her  their  most  respectful  attention. 


"I  understand,"  said  Anthony.  "That 
sweetly  imperious  way  of  hers  when  she 
shops  —  I  remember  it  the  first  time  I  ever 
went  shopping  with  her  --  " 

Juliet  gave  him  a  laughing  glance.  "  If 
I  remember,"  she  said,  "it  wasn't  I  who 
did  all  the  dictating  on  that  historic  ex- 
pedition when  we  furnished  this  house." 

"We've  got  to  go  shopping  again," 
Anthony  informed  them.  "  We're  planning 
to  put  a  little  wing  on  the  house,  opening 
from  under  the  stairs  in  the  living-room, 
for  a  nursery  and  a  den." 

"Going  to  put  the  two  together?"  asked 
a  new  voice  from  the  dimness  of  the  lawn. 

"Oh  —  hullo,      Roger      Barnes,      M.D.r 


A  Prior  Claim  185 

F.R.C.S.— come  up.  No,  I  think  we'll 
have  a  partition  between.  But  I  want  a 
room  below  stairs  for  Tony,  Junior,  so 
his  mother  won't  wear  herself  out  carry- 
ing him  up  and  down.  That  youngster 
weighs  seventeen  pounds  and  a  fraction 
already." 

"  I  was  confident  I'd  get  some  statistics 
if  I  came  out,"  said  the  doctor,  % settling 
himself  near  Juliet — with  a  purpose,  as  she 
instantly  recognised.  "  It  seemed  to  me 
I  couldn't  wait  longer  to  learn  how  much 
he  had  gained  since  I  met  Tony  day  before 
yesterday.  It  was  seventeen  without  the 
fraction  then." 

"That's  right — guy  me,"  returned  An- 
thony comfortably.  "  I  don't  mind — I've 
the  boy." 

"  I  want  a  talk  with  you,"  said  the  doctor 
softly  to  Juliet,  as  the  others  fell  to  dis- 
cussing the  project  of  the  enlarged  house. 
"I've  got  to  have  it,  too — or  go  off  my 
head." 

Juliet  nodded,  understanding  him.  Pres- 
ently she  rose.  "  I  have  an  errand  to  do," 
she  said.  "Will  you  walk  over  to  the 
Evanstons'  with  me,  Roger?" 


i86  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Now,  tell  me,"  began  the  doctor  the 
instant  they  were  off,  "is  she  going  to 
persist  in  this  awful  sacrifice?" 

"Poor  Rachel,"  breathed  Juliet.  "So 
many  lovers — and  so  unhappy." 

"Is  she  unhappy?"  begged  the  doctor. 
"Is  she?  If  I  only  were  sure  of  it ' 

"  What  girl  wouldn't  be  unhappy — to  be 
making  even  one  man  out  of  two  as  miser- 
able as  you?" 

"  But  you  know  what  I  mean.  Is  she 
going  to  marry  Huntington  out  of  love  as 
well  as  pity — or  only  pity  ? " 

"  Roger " — Juliet  stood  still  in  the  road, 
regarding  him  in  the  dim  light  with  kind 
eyes — "  if  I  knew  I  wouldn't  tell  you.  That's 
Rachel's  secret.  But  I  don't  know.  She's 
as  loyal  as  a  magnet,  and  as  reserved  as — 
you  would  want  her  to  be  if  you  were  Mr. 
Huntington." 

"She's  everything  she  ought  to  be.  I'm 
a  dastard  for  saying  it,  but  I  could  forgive 
her  for  being  disloyal  enough  to  him  to 
show  me  just  a  corner  of  her  heart.  Even 
if  she  loves  him  it's  what  I  called  it — an 
awful  sacrifice — a  man  dying  with  con- 
sumption. If  she  doesn't — except  as  the 
friend  of  her  early  girlhood,  when  she  didn't 


A  Prior  Claim  187 

know  men  or  her  own  heart — Juliet,  it's 
impious." 

"Roger,  dear,  keep  hold  of  yourself," 
Juliet  replied.  "You're  too  strong  and 
fine  to  want  to  come  between  her 
and  her  own  decision  —  if  she  has 
made  it." 

"If  you  were  a  man,"  said  he  hotly, 
"would  you  let  a  woman  marry  you — 
dying?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Juliet  stoutly,  "if  she 
insisted." 

"Women  are  capable  of  saying  any- 
thing in  an  argument,"  he  growled.  ,"I 
say  it's  outrageous  to  let  her  do  it.  She 
doesn't  love  him — she  does  love  me,"  he 
blurted. 

Juliet  turned  to  him  anxiously.  "  Roger, 
do  you  know  what  you  are  saying?" 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I've  got  to  tell  somebody, 
and  there's  nobody  but  you — you  perfect 
woman.  If  ever  a  man  knew  a  thing 
without  its  being  put  into  words  I  know 
that.  It  was  only  a  look,  weeks  ago,  but 
I'm  as  sure  of  it  as  I  am  of  myself.  I've 
had  nothing  but  coolness  from  her  since, 
but  that's  in  self-defense.  And  the  thought 
that,  loving  me,  she's  going  to  give  herself 


i88  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

to  him — a  wreck — do  you  wonder  it's 
driving  me  mad? " 

"You  ought  not  to  have  told  me  this," 
said  Juliet,  tears  in  her  voice.  "  If  Rachel 
is  doing  this  it's  because  she's  sure  she 
ought " 

"  Of  course  she  is.  And  that's  why  I  tell 
you.  You  have  more  influence  with  her 
than  any  one.  Can't  you  show  her  that 
duty,  the  most  urgent  in  the  world,  never 
requires  a  thing  like  that?  Let  her  be  his 
friend  to  the  last — the  sort  of  friend  she 
knows  how  to  be,  with  a  warm  hand  in  his 
cold  one.  But  never  his " 

The  doctor  grew  choky  with  his  vehe- 
mence, and  stopped  short.  Juliet  was 
silent,  full  of  distress.  She  thought  of  the 
two  men — Huntington,  a  frail  ghost,  in  the 
grip  of  a  deadly  illness,  yet  fighting  it  des- 
perately, and  desperately  clinging  to  the 
girl  he  loved:  a  clever  fellow,  educated  as  a 
mining  engineer,  successful,  even  beginning 
to  be  distinguished  in  his  work  until  his 
health  gave  out;  Barnes,  the  embodiment 
of  strength,  standing  high  in  his  profession, 
life  and  the  world  before  him,  a  fit  mate  for 
the  girl  who  deserved  the  best  there  could 
be  for  her — Juliet  thought  of  them  both  and 


A  Prior  Claim  189 

found  her  heart  aching  for  them — and  for 
Rachel  Redding. 

They  were  slowly  approaching  the  brown 
house  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  the  errand  at 
the  Evanstons'  forgotten,  when  suddenly  a 
familiar  figure  in  white  came  toward  them 
from  the  doorway.  The  doctor  started  at 
sight  of  it,  and  Juliet  grew  breathless  all  at 
once. 

"  I  thought  it  was  you  two,"  said  Rachel. 
"  This  rising  moon  struck  you  full  just  now, 
and  I  could  see  you  plainly.  I've  wanted 
to  see  you  both — and  this  is  my  last  chance. 
I  am  going  away  to-morrow." 

There  was  an  instant's  silence,  while 
Roger  Barnes  tried  to  choose  which  of  all 
the  things  he  wanted  to  say  to  her  should 
come  first.  Juliet  broke  the  stillness. 

"Walk  back  up  the  road  with  us,  dear," 
she  said,  "  and  tell  us  how  and  where  you 

go." 

"I  have  but  a  minute  to  spare,"  said 
Rachel.  "Let  me  say  good-bye  to  you 
both  here " 

"No,  by  heaven,  you  shall  not,"  burst 
out  the  doctor  in  a  suppressed  voice  of 
fire  which  startled  Juliet.  "You  owe  me 
ten  minutes,  in  place  of  the  last  letter  you 


i go  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

haven't  answered.  There  are  a  score  of 
them,  you  know — but  the  last  has  to  be 
answered  somehow." 

Rachel  hesitated.  "Very  well,"  she  said 
at  length,  "but  only  with  Mrs.  Robeson." 

"Can't  you  trust  me?"  He  was  angry 
now. 

"Yes — but  not  myself,"  she  answered, 
so  low  he  barely  caught  the  words.  He 
seized  her  hand. 

"  Then  trust  me  for  us  both,"  he  said,  so 
instantly  gentle  and  tender  that  Juliet 
found  it  possible  to  say  what  a  moment 
before  she  had  thought  unwise  enough: 
"  Go  with  him,  Ray,  dear.  I  think  it  is  his 
right." 

So  presently  she  found  herself  crossing  her 
own  lawn  alone,  while  the  two  who  had  just 
left  her  went  slowly  on  up  the  road  together. 
Her  heart  was  beating  hard  and  painfully, 
for  she  loved  them  both,  and  foresaw  for 
them  only  the  hardest  interview  of  their 
lives. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  Rachel  Redding 
stood  again  upon  her  own  porch,  and 
Roger  Barnes  looked  up  at  her  from  the 
walk  below  with  heavy  eyes. 


A  Prior  Claim  191 

"  At  least,"  he  said,  "  you  have  done  what 
I  never  would  have  believed  even  you  could 
do — convinced  me  against  my  will  that  you 
are  right.  You  love  him — he  worships  you. 
There  is  a  promise  of  life  for  him  in  Arizona 
— with  you.  I  can't  forbid  the  bans.  But 
I  shall  always  believe,  what  you  dare  not 
dispute,  that  if  I  had  come  first — you 

She  held  out  her  hand.  "  That  you  must 
not  say,"  she  said.  "  But  there  is  one  thing 
you  may  say — that  you  are  my  best  friend, 
whom  I  can  count  on 

"As  long  as  there  is  life  left  in  me,"  he 
answered  fervently.  He  wrung  her  hand 
in  both  his,  looked  long  and  steadily  up  into 
her  face  as  if  his  eyes  could  never  leave 
the  lovely  outlines  showing  clear  in  the 
light  from  the  windows,  then  turned  away 
and  strode  off  toward  the  station  without 
a  look  behind. 


XXI. — EVERYBODY  GIVES  ADVICE 

"I  SHOULD  do  it  in  brown  leather,"  said 
Cathcart  decidedly,  looking  about  him. 

He  stood  in  the  centre  of  Anthony's  den. 
The  carpenters  had  gone,  the  plasterers 
had  finished  their  work,  and  the  floor  had 
just  been  swept  up. 

"You're  all  right  as  far  as  you  go,"  ob- 
served Anthony,  who  stood  at  his  elbow, 
"but  you  don't  go  far  enough.  If  you 
want  me  to  hang  these  walls  with  brown 
leather  you'll  have  to  put  up  the  money. 
I  may  be  sufficiently  prosperous  to  afford 
the  addition  to  my  house,  but  I  haven't 
reached  the  stage  of  covering  the  walls  with 
cloth-of-gold." 

"Burlap  would  be  the  thing,  Tony," 
Judith  suggested. 

Anthony   was   surrounded  by   people— 
the  room  was  half  full  of  them,  elbowing 
each  other  about. 

"Paint  the  walls,"  advised  Lockwood. 

"There   are   imitation  -  leather   papers," 
said  Cathcart,  with  the  air  of  one  conde- 
192 


Everybody  Gives  Advice  193 

scending  to  lower  a  high  standard  for  the 
sake  of  those  who  could  not  live  up  to  it. 

"I  suppose  so,"  admitted  Anthony,  "at 
four  dollars  a  roll.  I  saw  a  simple  thing 
on  that  order  that  struck  me  the  other  day 
at  Heminways'.  I  thought  it  might  be 
about  forty  cents  a  roll.  It  was  a  dollar  a 
square  yard.  I  told  them  I  would  think 
it  over.  I  haven't  got  through  thinking  it 
over  yet." 

"You  want  a  plate-rail,"  said  Wayne 
Carey. 

"What  for?" 

"Why,  to  put  piates,  and  steins,  and 
things  on." 

"  Haven't  a  plate — or  a  stein.  Baby  has 
a  silver  mug.  Would  that  do  ? " 

Cathcart  smiled  in  a  superior  way. 
;'  You  had  a  lot  of  mighty  fine  stuff  in  your 
Yale  days,"  he  remarked.  "Pity  you  let 
it  all  go." 

"I  shouldn't  have  cared  for  that  truck 
now,"  Anthony  declared  easily,  though  he 
deceived  nobody  by  it.  Most  of  them  re- 
membered, if  Cathcart  had  forgotten,  how 
the  college  boy  had  sacrificed  all  his  treas- 
ures at  a  blow  when  the  news  of  his  family's 
misfortunes  had  come.  It  had  yielded 


194  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

little  enough,  after  all,  to  throw  into  the 
abyss  of  their  sudden  poverty,  but  the  act 
had  proved  the  spirit  of  the  elder  son  of  the 
house. 

"You  certainly  will  want  plenty  of  rugs 
and  hangings  of  the  right  sort,"  Cathcart 
pursued. 

Anthony  looked  at  him  good-humouredly. 
"  I  can  see  that  you  have  got  to  be  sup- 
pressed," he  said,  with  a  hand  on  Stevens's 
collar.  "  I  can  tell  you  in  a  breath  just 
what's  going  into  this  room  at  present. 
The  floor  is  to  have  a  matting,  one  of  those 
heavy,  cloth-like  mattings.  Auntie  Dingley 
has  presented  me  with  one  fine  old  Persian 
rug  from  the  Marcy  library,  which  she  in- 
sists is  out  of  key  with  the  rest  of  the  stuff. 
I'm  glad  it  is — it'll  furnish  the  key  to  my 
decorations.  Then  I've  a  splendid  old  desk 
I  picked  up  in  a  place  where  they  temporarily 
forgot  themselves  in  setting  a  price  on  it. 
That's  going  by  the  window.  I've  a  little 
Diirer  engraving,  and  a  few  good  foreign 
photographs  Juliet  has  put  under  glass  for 
me.  For  the  rest  I  have — what  I  like  best 
—clear  space,  pipe -and -hearth  room,  the 
bamboo  chairs  off  the  porch  with  some 
winter  cushions  in,  my  books — and  that." 


Everybody  Gives  Advice      .          195 

He  pointed  to  the  windows,  outside 
which  lay  a  long  country  vista  stretch- 
ing away  over  fields  and  river  to  the 
woods  in  the  distance,  turning  rich  au- 
tumn tints  now  under  the  late  October 
frosts. 

"It's  enough,"  said  Carey,  with  the  sup- 
pressed sigh  which  usually  accompanied  any 
allusion  of  his  to  Anthony's  environment. 
"  Dens  are  too  stuffy,  as  a  rule.  Fellows 
try  to  see  how  much  useless  lumber  they 
can  accumulate  in  altogether  inadequate 
space." 

"But  you  ought  to  have  a- couch,"  said 
Judith. 

"Oh,  yes,  I'm  going  to  have  a.  couch," 
assented  Anthony,  laughing  across  her  head 
at  Juliet.  "  A  gem  of  .  a  couch — we're 
making  it  ourselves.  You're  not  to  see  it 
till  it's  done.  It'll  be  no  brickbat  couch, 
either — it'll  be  a  flowery  bed  of  ease — or, 
if  not  flowery,  invitingly  covered  with  some 
stunning  stuff  Juliet  has  fished  out  of  a 
neighbour's  attic." 

"  Now,  come  and  see  the  nursery,"  Juliet 
proposed,  and  the  party  crowded  through 
the  door  into  the  living-room,  around  to 
the  one  by  its  side  which  opened  into  an 


196  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

attractive  room  behind  the  den,  all  air 
and  sunshine. 

"I  refuse  to  suggest,"  said  Cathcart  in- 
stantly,  "the  decorations  for  this  place." 

"  That's  good,"  remarked  Anthony  cheer- 
fully. "  So  much  verbiage  out  of  the  way." 

"  It'll  be  pink  and  white,  I  suppose,"  said 
Judith.  "Pink  is  the  colour  for  boys,  I'm 
told." 

Behind  all  their  backs  Anthony  glanced 
at  his  wife,  affection  and  amusement  in 
his  face.  She  read  the  look  and  smiled 
back.  It  was  no  part  of  their  plan  to  let 
the  boy  grow  up  alone.  And  as  a  mother 
she  seemed  to  him  far  more  beautiful  than 
she  had  ever  been. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  a  little  paper  with 
nursery-rhyme  pictures  all  over  it,"  ex- 
plained Juliet.  "There  are  all  sorts  of 
softly  harmonising  colours  in  it.  And  just 
a  matting  on  the  floor  with  a  rug  to  play  on, 
his  white  crib,  and  some  gay  little  curtains 
at  the  windows." 

"  Have  you  made  the  partition  double- 
thick,  old  man?"  asked  Lockwood.  "This 
den-nursery  combination  strikes  me  as  a 
little  dubious." 

"  It's  no  use  explaining  to  a  fiendish  old 


Everybody  Gives  Advice  197 

bachelor,"  said  Anthony,  leading  the  way 
out  of  the  place,  "  that  I'd  think  I  was 
missing  a  good  deal  if  I  should  get  so  far 
away  that  I  couldn't  hear  little  Tony  laugh 
— or  cry.  Julie,  where's  the  boy?  May  I 
bring  him  down?" 

He  disappeared  upstairs,  whence  sounds 
of  hilarity  were  at  once  heard.  Presently 
he  reappeared  on  the  stairs,  bearing  aloft 
upon  his  shoulder  a  rosy  cherub  of  a  baby, 
smiling  and  waving  a  chubby  fist  at  the 
company.  The  beauty  in  his  face  was 
an  exquisite  mixture  of  that  belonging 
to  both  father  and  mother.  Anthony  and 
his  son  together  made  a  picture  worth 
seeing. 

Once  more  Wayne  Carey  smothered  a 
sigh.  But  Judith  hardened  her  heart. 
Since  Baby  Anthony  had  come  Wayne  had 
been  difficult  to  manage. 

Lockwood  stayed  after  the  others  had 
gone.  Sitting  smoking  before  the  fire  with 
Anthony  after  Juliet  had  left  them  alone 
he  brought  the  conversation  around  to  a 
point  which  Anthony  had  expected. 

"  What  do  you  hear  of  that  man  Hunting- 
ton?"  he  asked,  as  indifferently  as  a  man 


198  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

is  ever  able  to  ask  a  question  which  means 
much  to  him. 

"Huntington?  Why,  the  last  was  that 
he  was  improving  a  little,  I  believe.  Ari- 
zona is  a  great  place  for  that  sort  of  thing. ' ' 

"Good  deal  of  a  sacrifice  for  her  people 
to  go  with  her  way  out  there." 

"  She  couldn't  leave  them  behind.  Father 
half -blind — mother  a  cripple.  I  understand 
that  Arizona  air  is  bracing  them,  too." 

"  The  fellow's  own  mother  was  one  of  the 
party,  wasn't  she?" 

"  I  believe  so.     He's  all  she  has." 

"  I  don't  see,  with  all  those  people  to 
chaperon  her,  why  she  couldn't  have  gone 
along  with  him  without  marrying  him," 
observed  Lockwood  in  a  gruff  tone. 

Anthony  smiled.  "That  would  have 
been  a  Tantalus  draught  indeed,"  he 
remarked.  "  I  imagine  poor  Huntington 
will  need  all  the  concessions  he  can  get  if 
he  keeps  on  breathing  even  Arizona  air." 

"Anthony,"  said  Lockwood,  after  a 
silence  of  some  minutes,  during  which  he 
had  puffed  away  with  his  eyes  intent  on  the 
fire,  "  do  you  fancy  Rachel  Redding  cared 
enough  for  that  man  to  immolate  herself 
like  that?" 


Everybody  Gives  Advice  199 

"Looks  very  much  like  it." 

"  I  know  it  looks  like  it;  but  if  I  read  that 
girl  right  she  was  the  sort  to  stick  to  any- 
thing she'd  said  she'd  do,  if  it  took  the 
breath  out  of  her  body.  How  long  had  she 
known  him — any  idea?" 

"  A  good  while,  I  believe." 

"  I  thought  so.  Early  engagement,  you 
see — ought  never  to  have  stood. ' ' 

"  If  you'd  been  Huntington  you'd  prob- 
ably have  had  the  unreasonable  notion  that 
it  should." 

"She's  a  magnificent  girl,"  said  Lock- 
wood,  blowing  a  great  volume  of  smoke 
into  the  air  with  head  elevated  and  half- 
shut  eyes.  "  She  made  those  two  who  were 
here  with  her  last  summer  seem  like  thirty 
cents  beside  her.  Nice  girls,  too — fine 
girls — elegant  dressers;  I  don't  know  what 
the  matter  was.  Neither  did  they."  He 
chuckled  a  little.  "They  couldn't  believe 
their  own  eyes  when  they  saw  three  of  us 
going  daft  over  a  girl  they  wouldn't  have 
staked  a  copper  on  in  a  free-for-all  with 
themselves.  They  took  it  gamely,  I'll  say 
that  for  them.  Marie  won't  have  me  back. ' ' 

"I  don't  blame  her." 

"Neither    do    I.     Haven't    got    to    the 


200  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

want-  to  -  be  -  taken  -  back  stage — sometime  s 
think  I  never  shall.  One  experience  like 
that  spoils  a  man  for  the  average  girl. 
The  truth  is,  Tony,  the  most  of  them — er— 
overdo  the  meet-you-half-way  act.  I  want 
a  girl  to  keep  me  guessing  till  the  last 
minute." 

"Tell  that  to  the  girl,"  advised  Anthony. 

"  I  wish  I  could.  Yet  there  were  a  good 
many  times  when  I  thought  if  Rachel 
Redding  would  just  look  my  way  I  shouldn't 
take  it  ill  of  her.  I  wonder  if  she'd  have 
been  like  that  if  she  hadn't  been  engaged  to 
another  fellow." 

"Probably."  Anthony  got  up  and 
stretched  himself.  He  was  growing  weary 
of  other  men's  confidences. 

"You're  right  she  would.  She's  built 
that  way.  Yet  when  you  get  to  fancying 
what  she'd  be  if  she  just  let  herself  go  and 
show  she  cared— 

"Look  here,  my  young  friend,"  said  An- 
thony, "  I  advise  you  to  go  home  and  go  to 
bed.  Sitting  here  dreaming  over  Mrs.  Alex 
ander  Huntington  isn't  good  for  you.  What 
you  want  to  be  doing  is  to  forget  her. 
Huntington 's  going  to  get  well,  and  they're 
going  to  live  happily  ever  after,  and  you 


Everybody  Gives  Advice  201 

fellows  out  here  can  look  up  other  girls. 
Plenty  of  'em.  Only,  for  the  love  of  heaven, 
see  if  you  can  avoid  all  setting  your  affec- 
tions on  the  same  girl  next  time.  It's 
too  rough  on  your  friends !  " 


XXII. — ROGER  BARNES  PROVES 
INVALUABLE 

TIME  went  swinging  on,  and  by  and  by  it 
came  to  be  Tony  Robeson,  Junior's,  second 
Christmas  day.  He  rode  down  to  breakfast 
on  his  father's  shoulder,  crowing  loudly  on 
a  gorgeous  brown  and  scarlet  rooster,  which 
he  had  found  on  his  Christmas  tree  the 
evening  before.  He  had  been  put  to  bed 
immediately  thereafter  and  had  gone  to 
sleep  with  the  rooster  in  his  arms.  The 
fowl  had  a  charmingly  realistic  crow,  oper- 
ated by  a  pneumatic  device  upon  which 
the  baby  had  promptly  learned  to  blow. 
He  performed  upon  it  uninterruptedly 
throughout  breakfast. 

"See  here,  my  son,"  said  Anthony,  hur- 
riedly finishing  his  coffee,  "let's  see  if  you 
can't  appreciate  some  of  your  less  voiceful 
toys.  Here's  a  rabbit  with  fine  soft  ears 
for  you  to  pull.  There's  a  train  of  cars. 
Let  me  wind  it  for  you.  Your  Grandfather 
Marcy  must  have  expended  several  good 
dollars  on  that — you  want  to  show  up  an 
interest  in  it  when  he  comes  out  to  see  you 

202 


Toys  which  can  be  relied  upon  to  please  a  twenty  months  old  infant.' 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable       203 

to-day.  And  here's  Auntie  Dingley's  pick- 
aninny boy-doll — well,  I  don't  blame  you 
for  failing  to  embrace  that.  Auntie  Dingley 
was  born  in  Massachusetts." 

The  boy  cast  an  indifferently  polite  eye 
on  these  gifts  as  their  charms  were  exhibited 
to  him,  and  clasped  the  brown  and  scarlet 
rooster  to  his  breast.  There  were  moments, 
half  hours  even,  when  he  became  sufficiently 
diverted  from  his  fowl  to  cease  from  making 
it  crow,  but  at  intervals  throughout  the 
day  the  family  were  given  to  understand 
once  for  all  that  it  is  not  the  most  expensive 
and  ornate  toys  which  can  be  relied  upon 
to  please  a  twenty-months-old  infant.  Even 
the  automobile  presented  by  Dr.  Roger 
Barnes,  and  warranted  to  go  three  times 
around  the  room  without  stopping,  was  a 
tame  affair  to  the  recipient  compared  with 
the  rooster's  shrill  salute. 

"Remember,  Tony,"  Juliet  had  said,  a 
month  before  Christmas,  "you  are  not  to 
give  me  any  expensive  personal  gift  this 
year.  I  care  for  nothing  half  so  much  as  for 
making  the  home  complete.  If — if — you 
cared  to  give  me  something  toward  the 
bathroom  fund— 

'  'All  right, ' '  said  Anthony  promptly,  for  he 


204  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

had  learned  by  this  time  to  know  his  wife  well. 
The  bathroom  fund  was  dear  to  her  heart. 
The  small  room  at  the  front  of  the  house 
upstairs,  which  had  been  left  unfurnished, 
had  been  temporarily  fitted  up  as  a  bath- 
room by  sundry  ingenious  devices  in  the 
way  of  a  tin  bath  and  a  hot  and  cold  water 
connection,  but  a  full  equipment  of  the  best 
sort  was  to  be  put  in  as  soon  as  practicable, 
and  there  was  a  growing  fund  therefor. 

On  Christmas  morning,  nevertheless,  in 
addition  to  a  generous  addition  to  the  fund, 
Juliet  found  beside  her  plate  an  exceedingly 
"personal  gift"  in  the  shape  of  a  little 
pearl-and-turquoise  brooch  of  rare  design, 
bearing  the  stamp  of  a  superior  maker. 

"Must  I  scold  you?"  she  asked,  smiling 
up  at  him  as  he  stood  beside  her,  watching 
her  face  flush  with  pleasure. 

"Kiss  me,  instead,"  he  answered 
promptly.  "And  don't  expect  me  to  give 
up  making  you  now  and  then  a  real  present, 
even  though  it  has  to  be  a  small  one.  It's 
too  much  fun." 

Beside  his  own  plate  he  found  her  gift, 
a  set  of  histories  he  had  long  wanted.  It 
was  a  beautiful  edition,  and  he  would  have 
looked  reproachfully  at  the  giver  if  she, 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable       205 

had  not  forestalled  him  by  running  around 
the  table  to  say  softly  in  his  ear,  both  arms 
about  his  neck:  "Just  at  Christmas  time, 
dearest,  let  me  have  my  way." 

The  day  was  a  happy  one.  Mr.  Horatio 
Marcy  and  Mrs.  Dingley  arrived  on  the 
morning  train  and  stayed  until  evening. 
At  the  Christmas  dinner  Judith  and  Wayne 
Carey  and  Dr.  Roger  Barnes  were  the  addi- 
tional guests,  and  Mary  McKaim  was  in  the 
kitchen.  Dinner  over,  everybody  sat  about 
the  fireplace  talking,  when  Juliet  came  in 
to  carry  little  Tony  off  to  bed. 

"  Five  minutes  more,"  begged  Dr.  Barnes, 
on  whose  knee  the  child  sat,  a  willing  cap- 
tive to  the  arts  of  his  entertainer.  His 
eyes,  bright  with  the  excitement  of  this 
great  day,  were  fixed  upon  the  doctor's 
face. 

"And  so"— Barnes  continued  the  story 
he  had  begun — "  the  rooster  climbed  right 
up  the  man's  leg"-— the  toy  obeyed  his 
command  and  scaled  the  eminence  from 
the  floor  where  it  had  been  hiding  behind 
a  Noah's  ark— -"and  perched  on  his  knee, 
and  cried "  —  the  rooster  crowed  lustily 
and  little  Tony  laughed  ecstatically.  "  Then 
the  rooster  flew  up  on  the  man's  shoulder 


206  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

and  flapped  his  wings,  and  all  at  once  he 
fell  right  over  backwards  and  tumbled  on  his 
head  on  the  floor. — Got  to  go  to  bed, 
Tony  ?  Shall  the  rooster  go  too  ?  All  right. 
May  I  carry  him  up  for  you,  Juliet?  An- 
thony's deep  in  that  discussion.  Get  on  my 
back,  old  man — that's  the  way! " 

Everybody  looked  after  the  two  as  the 
doctor  mounted  the  stairs. 

"That  rooster  has  captivated  the  child 
more  than  all  the  mechanical  toys  he  has 
had  to-day,"  said  Mrs.  Dingley. 

"What  a  handsome  fellow  he  is,"  said 
Carey,  his  eyes  following  little  Tony  till  he 
disappeared.  "  I  never  saw  a  healthier, 
happier  child.  How  sturdy  he  is  on  his 
legs — have  you  noticed?  He's  saying  a 
good  many  words,  too.  It  was  as  good  as 
a  play  to  see  him  imitate  that  rooster. ' ' 

Juliet's  father  and  Mrs.  Dingley  left  on  an 
early  evening  train,  and  only  the  three 
younger  guests  remained  when  Juliet  came 
down-stairs  after  putting  her  boy  to  bed. 
She  set  about  gathering  up  the  toys  scat- 
tered over  the  floor,  and  Barnes  helped  her. 
In  the  midst  of  this  labour,  during  which 
they  all  made  merry  with  some  of  the  more 
elaborate  mechanical  affairs,  Juliet  sud- 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable       207 

denly  said  "  What's  that? "  and  went  to  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs. 

"Let  me  go,"  offered  Anthony.  "He's 
probably  too  excited  to  get  to  sleep  easily 
after  all  this  dissipation. — Hullo! — he's 
crowing  with  the  rooster  yet." 

But  Juliet  went  up,  and  he  followed  her, 
saying  from  the  landing  to  his  guests, 
"Excuse  me  for  a  little.  I'll  get  the  boy 
quiet,  and  let  his  mother  come  down.  I've 
a  fine  talent  for  that  sort  of  thing.  That 
rooster  will  have  to  be  given  some  soothing 
syrup — he's  too  lively  a  fowl." 

"  I  never  saw  a  man  fonder  of  his  young- 
ster than  Tony,"  Carey  observed. 

"The  child  is  a  particularly  fine  speci- 
men," the  doctor  said.  "I  think  I  never 
saw  a  more  ideal  development  than  he 
shows." 

He  began  to  tell  an  incident  in  which 
little  Tony  had  been  involved,  when  he 
was  interrupted. 

"  Barnes!  "  —called  Anthony's  voice  from 
the  top  of  the  stairs.  "Come  up  here, 
please." 

There  was  something  in  the  imperative 
quality  of  this  summons  which  made  the 
doctor  run  up  the  stairs,  two  at  a  time. 


208  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Judith  and  Wayne  listened.  The  rooster 
could  still  be  heard  crowing,  faintly  but 
distinctly. 

"  Perhaps  he's  grown  too  excited  over  it," 
Judith  suggested.  "They  ought  to  take 
it  away." 

Carey  went  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  and 
listened.  There  were  rapid  movements  over- 
head. The  doctor's  voice  could  be  heard 
giving  directions  through  which  sounded 
the  steady  crowing  of  the  toy.  "  Hold  him 
so — now  move  him  that  way  as  I  thump — 
now  the  other- 
Carey  turned  pale.  "  He's  got  that  roos- 
ter in  his  throat,"  he  said  solemnly.  The 
rooster  was  nearly  life-size,  but  the  incon- 
gruity of  this  suggestion  did  not  strike 
him.  Judith  hastily  rose  from  her  chair 
and  went  to  him. 

"Had  we  better  go  up?"  he  whispered. 
"Heavens — no!"  Judith  clutched  his 
arm.  "We  couldn't  do  any  good.  The 
doctor's  there.  Such  things  make  me  ill. 
They  ought  not  to  have  let  him  have  the 
toy  to  take  to  bed  with  him.  How  could  it 
get  into  his  throat?  Perhaps  they  are 
making  it  crow  to  divert  him.  Perhaps 
he's  hurt  himself  somehow." 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable       209 

"  He's  got  the  crow  part  of  that  thing  in 
his  throat,"  Carey  persisted  in  an  anxious 
whisper.  "  The  manufacturers  ought  to 
be  prosecuted  for  making  a  toy  that  will 
come  apart  like  that." 

"Don't  stand  there,"  protested  his  wife. 
"  Maybe  it's  nothing.  Come  here  and  sit 
down." 

But  Carey  stood  still.  Presently  Anthony 
came  to  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"Wayne,"  said  he  rapidly,  "telephone 
Roger's  office.  Ask  the  trained  nurse, 
Miss  Hughes,  to  send  a  messenger  with  the 
doctor's  emergency  surgical  case  by  the 
first  train — he  can  catch  the  9:40  if  he's 
quick.  Tell  Miss  Hughes  to  follow  as  soon 
as  she  can  get  ready,  prepared  to  stay  all 
night.'.' 

Then  he  disappeared.  His  voice  had 
been  steady  and  quiet,  but  his  eyes  had 
showed  his  friend  that  the  order  was  given 
under  tension.  Carey  sprang  to  the  tele- 
phone, and  his  hand  shook  as  he  took  down 
the  receiver. 

Upstairs  Roger  Barnes,  in  command,  was 
giving  cool,  concise  orders,  his  eyes  on  his 
little  patient.  When  he  had  despatched 
Juliet  for  various  things,  including  boiling 


210  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

water  which  she  must  get  downstairs,  he 
said  to  Anthony  in  a  conversational  tone: 

"It  will  probably  not  be  safe  to  wait  till 
my  instruments  get  here,  and  there's  no 
surgeon  near  enough  to  call.  I'm  not 
going  to  take  any  chances  on  this  boy. 
If  I  see  the  necessity  I'm  going  to  get  into 
that  throat  and  give  him  air.  I  shall  want 
you  and  Carey  to  hold  him.  Juliet  must  be 
downstairs. ' ' 

Anthony  nodded.  He  did  not  quite 
understand;  but  a  few  minutes  later,  when 
Juliet  had  brought  the  boiling  water. 
he  suddenly  perceived  what  his  friend 
meant. 

"Alcohol,  now,  please,"  said  the  doctor. 
When  Juliet  had  disappeared  again  Barnes 
drew  from  his  pocket  a  pearl-handled 
pocket-knife  and  tried  its  blades.  "  It's  a 
fortunate  thing  somebody  made  me  a 
present  of  such  a  good  one  to-day,"  he  ob- 
served, "but  it  needs  sharpening  a  bit. 
Have  you  an  oil-stone  handy?" 

With  tightly  shut  lips  Anthony  watched 
the  doctor  put  a  bright  edge  on  his  smallest 
blade,  then,  satisfied,  drop  the  open  knife 
into  the  water  bubbling  over  a  spirit-lamp. 
Anthony  turned  his  head  away  for  an  in- 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable       211 

stant  from  the  struggling  little  figure  on 
the  bed.  Barnes  eyed  him  keenly. 

"You're  game,  of  course?"  he  said. 

Anthony's  eyes  met  his  and  flashed  fire. 
"  Don't  you  know  me  better  than  that? " 

"All  right,"  and  the  young  surgeon 
smiled.  "  But  I've  seen  a  medical  man 
himself  go  to  pieces  over  his  own  child. 
This  is  a  simple  matter,"  he  went  on  lightly. 
"  Luckily,  boiling  water  is  a  more  potent 
antiseptic  than  all  the  drugs  on  the  market 
— and  alcohol's  another.  I  shall  want  a 
new  hairpin  or  two — if  Juliet  has  a  wire 
one. — That  the  alcohol  ?  Thank  you.  Now 
if  you've  the  hairpins,  Juliet — ah — a  silver 
one — all  the  better." 

This  also  he  dropped  into  the  boiling 
water.  Then  he  spoke  very  quietly  to 
Tony's  mother,  as  she  bent  over  her  child, 
fighting  for  his  breath. 

"It's  a  bit  tough  to  watch,"  he  said, 
"but  we'll  have  him  all  right  presently. 
Suppose  you  go  and  get  his  crib  ready  for 
him.  You  might  fill  some  hot- water  bags 
and  bottles  and  have  things  warm  and 
comfortable." 

The  telephone-bell  rang  below.  After  a 
minute  Carey  dashed  upstairs.  He  looked 


212  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

into  the  room  and  spoke  anxiously.  "  The 
messenger  just  missed  the  9:40.  He  and 
the  nurse  will  come  on  the  10:15." 

"All  right,"  said  the  doctor,  as  if  the 
delay  were  of  small  consequence.  "We're 
going  to  want  your  help  presently,  Carey. 
I  think.  Just  ask  Mrs.  Carey  to  keep  Mrs. 
Robeson  with  her  for  a  few  minutes,  if  she 
can." 

Carey  went  down  and  gave  his  wife  the 
message,  then  he  hurried  back  and  stood 
waiting  just  outside  the  door.  And  all  at 
once  the  summons  came.  In  a  breath  the 
doctor  had  changed  his  role.  He  spoke 
sharply : 

"Now,  Robeson — now,  Carey — we've 
waited  up  to  the  limit.  Keep  cool  —  hold 
him  like  a  rock  — 

Wayne  Carey  came  down  to  his  wife,  ten 
minutes  later,  smiled  tremulously,  sank  into 
a  chair,  and  fell  to  crying  like  a  baby- 
softly,  so  that  he  could  not  be  heard. 

"But  Juliet  says  he'll  be  all  right," 
murmured  Judith  unsteadily. 

"Yes,  yes—  Carey  wiped  his  eyes 

and  blew  his  nose.  "  I'm  just  a  little  un- 
nerved, that's  all.  Lord — and  he's  dropped 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable       213 

off  to  sleep  as  quiet  as  a  lamb — with  Barnes 
holding  the  gash  in  his  throat  open  with  a 
hairpin  to  let  the  air  in.  When  it  comes 
to  emergency  surgery  I  tell  you  it's  a  lucky 
thing  to  have  an  expert  in  the  house. 
Completely  worn  out — the  little  chap. 
When  the  nurse  comes  they'll  get  out  the 
whistle  and  sew  the  place  up.  She  ought 
to  be  here — I'll  go  meet  that  train." 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  hurried  out  of 
the  house.  Presently  he  was  back,  fol- 
lowed by  an  erect  young  woman  who  wore 
a  long  coat  over  the  uniform  she  had  not 
taken  time  to  change.  Carey  carried  the 
long  black  bag  she  had  brought  with 
her. 

By  and  by  Anthony  and  Roger  Barnes 
came  down.  The  former  was  pale,  but  as 
quietly  composed  as  ever;  the  latter  non- 
chalant, yet  wearing  that  gleam  of  satis- 
faction in  his  eye  which  is  ever  the  badge 
of  the  successful  surgeon. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Carey,"  said  the  doctor, 
smiling,  "why  not  relax  that  tension  a 
bit?  The  youngster  is  right  as  a  trivet." 

"  I  suppose  that's  your  idea  of  being 
right  as  a  trivet,"  Judith  retorted.  "In 
bed,  with  a  trained  nurse  watching  you, 


214  the  Indifference  of  Juliet 

and  a  doctor  staying  all  night  to  make 
sure." 

"  Bless  you — what  better  would  you 
have  ?  If  it  were  any  other  boy  the  doctor 
would  have  been  home  and  in  bed  an  hour 
ago,  I  assure  you.  Carey — if  you  don't 
stop  acting  like  a  great  fool  I'll  put  you  to 
bed  too." 

For  Carey  was  wringing  Barnes'  hand, 
and  the  tears  were  running  unashamed 
down  his  cheeks.  "  I  gave  him  that  rooster 
myself,"  he  said,  and  choked. 

Upstairs  all  was  quiet.  The  little  life 
was  safe,  rescued  at  the  crucial  moment 
when  interference  became  necessary,  by  the 
skill  and  daring  which  do  not  hesitate  to 
use  the  means  at  hand  when  the  authorized 
tools  can  not  be  had.  Every  precaution 
had  been  taken  against  harm  from  these 
same  unconventional  means,  and  the  doctor, 
when  he  left  his  patient  in  the  hands  of 
his  nurse,  felt  small  anxiety  for  the  ulti- 
mate outcome. 

He  said  this  very  positively  to  the  boy's 
father  and  mother,  holding  a  hand  of  each 
and  bidding  them  go  peacefully  to  sleep. 
He  would  have  slipped  away  then,  but 
they  would  not  let  him  go.  There  were  no 


Roger  Barnes  Proves  Invaluable      215 

tears,  no  fuss ;  but  Juliet  said,  her  eyes  with 
their  heavy  shadows  of  past  suspense 
meeting  his  steadily,  "  Roger,  nothing  can 
ever  tell  you  what  I  feel  about  this,"  and 
Anthony,  gripping  his  friend's  hand  with 
a  grip  of  steel,  added:  "We  shall  never 
thank  the  Lord  enough  for  having  you  on 
hand,  Roger  Barnes." 

But  when  the  young  surgeon  had  gone, 
warm  with  pleasure  over  the  service  he 
had  done  those  he  loved  this  night,  the 
ones  he  had  left  behind  found  their  self- 
control  had  reached  the  ragged  edge. 
Turning  to  her  husband  Juliet  flung  her- 
self into  his  arms,  and  met  there  the 
tenderest  reception  she  had  ever  known. 
So  does  a  common  anxiety  knit  hearts 
which  had  thought  they  could  be  no 
tighter  bound. 

Judith  and  Wayne  Carey,  walking  along 
silent  streets  in  the  early  dawn  of  the  day 
after  Christmas  on  their  way  to  take  their 
train  home,  had  little  to  say.  Only  once 
Judith  ventured  an  observation  to  her 
heavy-eyed  companion: 

"  Surely,  such  a  scene  as  you  went  through 
last  night  must  diminish  a  trifle  that  envy 


216  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

you  are  always  possessed  with,  when  you're 
at  that  house." 

But  Wayne,  staring  up  at  the  wintry 
sky,  answered,  more  roughly  than  his  wife 
had  ever  heard  him  speak:  "No — God 
knows  I  envy  them  even  at  a  time  like 
this!" 


XXIIL— Two  NOT  OF  A  KIND 

"YES,  they  are  very  pleasant  rooms," 
Juliet  admitted,  with  the  air  of  one  en- 
deavouring to  be  polite.  She  sat  upon  a 
many-hued  divan,  and  glanced  from  the 
blue-and-yellow  wall-paper  to  the  green 
velvet  chairs,  the  dull-red  carpet  and  the 
stiff  "lace"  curtains.  'You  get  the  after- 
noon sun,  and  the  view  opposite  isn't  bad. 
The  vestibule  seemed  to  be  well  kept,  and 
I  rang  only  three  times  before  I  made  you 
hear." 

"The  janitor  promised  to  fix  that  bell," 
said  Judith  hastily.  "  Oh,  I  know  the 
colour  combinations  are  dreadful,  but  one 
can't  help  that  in  rented  rooms.  Of  course 
our  things  look  badly  with  the  ones  that 
belong  here.  But  as  soon  as  we  can  we 
are  going  to  move  into  a  still  better  place." 

"  Going  to  keep  house  ? " 

"  No-o,  not  just  yet."  Judith  hesitated. 
"  You  seem  to  think  there's  nothing  in  the 
world  to  do  but  to  keep  house." 

"I'm  sure  of  it." 

217 


2i8  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  I  can't  see  why.  A  girl  doesn't  need 
to  assume  all  the  cares  of  life  the  minute 
she  marries.  Why  can't  she  keep  young 
and  fresh  for  a  while  ? " 

Juliet  glanced  toward  a  mirror  opposite. 
"  How  old  and  haggard  I  must  be  looking," 
she  observed,  with — it  must  be  confessed — 
a  touch  of  complacency.  The  woman  who 
could  have  seen  that  image  reflected  as  her 
own  without  complacency  must  have  been 
indifferent,  indeed. 

"Of  course,  you  manage  it  somehow — I 
suppose  because  Anthony  takes  such  care 
of  you.  But  you  wait  till  five  years  more 
have  gone  over  your  head,  and  see  if 
you're  not  tired  of  it." 

"  If  I'm  as  tired  of  it  as  you  are —  "  began 
Juliet,  and  stopped.  "  But  seriously,  Ju- 
dith, is  it  nothing  to  you  to  please  Wayne  ? " 

"Why,  of  course."'  Judith  flushed.  "But 
Wayne  is  satisfied." 

"Are  you  sure  of  it?" 

"Certainly.  Oh,  sometimes,  when  we 
go  to  see  you,  and  you  make  things  so  pleas- 
ant with  your  big  fire  and  your  good  things 
to  eat,  he  gets  a  spasm  of  wishing  we  were 
by  ourselves,  but — 

Juliet  shook  her  head.     "  Wayne  doesn't 


Two  Not  <pf  a  Kind  219 

say  a  word,"  she  said,  "  and  he's  as  devoted 
to  you  as  a  man  can  be.  But,  Judith,  if 
I  know  the  symptoms,  that  husband  of 
yours  is  starving  for  a  home,  and — do  I 
dare  say  it?" 

Judith  was  staring  out  of  the  window  at 
the  ugly  walls  opposite.  It  was  her  bed- 
room window,  and  the  opposite  walls  were 
not  six  feet  away. 

"I  suppose  you  dare  say  anything,"  she 
answered,  looking  as  if  she  were  about  to 
cry.  "I'm  sure  I  envy  you,  you're  so 
supremely  contented.  I  don't  think  I 
was  made  to  care  for  children." 

"That  might  come,"  said  Juliet  softly. 
"  I'm  sure  it  would,  Judith.  As  for  Wayne, 
if  you  could  see  the  look  on  his  face  I've 
surprised  there  more  than  once,  when  he 
had  little  Anthony,  and  he  thought  nobody 
noticed,  it  would  make  your  heart  ache, 
dear.  Don't  deny  him — or  yourself — the 
best  thing  that  can  happen  to  either  of  you. 
At  least,  don't  deny  it  for  lack  of  a  home. 
I'm  sure  I  can't  imagine  Tony,  Junior,  in 
these  rooms  of  yours.  They  don't  look," 
she  explained,  smiling,  "exactly  babyish." 

She  rose  to  go.  She  looked  so  young  and 
fair  and  sweet  as  she  spoke  her  gentle  homily 


220  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

that  Judith,  half  doubting,  half  believing, 
admitted  to  herself  that  of  one  thing  there 
could  be  no  question :  Mrs.  Anthony  Robe- 
son  envied  nobody  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth. 

The  visits  of  the  Robesons  to  the  various 
apartments  which  were  in  rotation  occupied 
by  the  Careys  were  few.  Somehow  it 
seemed  much  easier  and  simpler  for  the 
pair  who  had  no  children,  and  no  house- 
keeping to  hamper  them,  to  run  out  into 
the  suburbs  than  for  their  friends  to  get 
into  town.  So  the  Careys  came  with 
ever  increasing  frequency,  always  warmly 
welcomed,  and  enjoyed  the  hours  within 
the  little  house  so  thoroughly  that  in 
time  the  influence  of  the  content  they  saw 
so  often  began  to  have  its  inevitable  effect. 

"  I've  great  news  for  you,"  said  Anthony, 
coming  home  one  March  day,  when  little 
Tony  was  nearing  his  second  birthday. 
"It's  about  the  Careys.  Guess." 

"They  are  going  to  housekeeping." 

"  How  did  you  know? " 

"  I  didn't  know,  but  Judith  told  me 
weeks  ago  she  supposed  she  should  have  to 
come  to  it.  Have  they  found  a  house?" 

"  Carey  thinks  he  has.     Judith  doesn't 


Two  Not  of  a  Kind  221 

like  the  place,  for  about  fifty  good  and 
sufficient  reasons — to  her.  He's  trying  to 
persuade  her.  He  has  an  option  on  it  for 
ten  days.  He  wants  us  to  come  out  and 
look  at  it  with  them." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"About  as  far  east  of  the  city  as  we  are 
north.  If  to-morrow  is  a  good  day  I 
promised  we  would  run  out  with  them  on 
the  ten-fifteen.  I  suspect  they  need  us 
badly.  Wayne  looks  like  a  man  distracted. 
The  great  trouble,  I  fancy,  is  going  to  be 
that  Judith  Dearborn  Carey  is  still  too 
much  of  a  Dearborn  to  be  able  to  make  a 
home  out  of  anything.  And  Carey  can't 
do  it  alone." 

"  Indeed  he  can't,  poor  fellow.  I  never 
saw  a  man  in  my  life  who  wanted  a  home 
as  badly  as  Wayne  does.  Let's  do  our 
best  to  help  them." 

"We  will.  But  the  only  way  to  do  it 
thoroughly  is  to  make  Judith  over.  Even 
you  can't  accomplish  that." 

"There's  hope,  if  she  has  agreed  at  all  to 
trying  the  experiment,"  Juliet  declared, 
and  thought  about  her  friends  all  the  rest 
of  the  day. 

It  was  but  five  minutes'  walk,  from  the 


222  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

suburban  station  where  the  party  got  off 
next  morning,  to  the  house  which  Carey 
eagerly  pointed  out  as  the  four  approached. 

"There  it  is,"  he  said.  "Don't  tell  me 
what  you  think  of  it  till  you've  seen  the 
whole  thing.  I  know  it  doesn't  look 
promising  as  yet,  but  I  keep  remembering 
the  photographs  of  your  home,  Robeson, 
before  you  went  at  it.  I'm  .inclined  to 
think  this  can  be  made  right,  too." 

Anthony  and  Juliet  studied  Carey's  choice 
with  interest.  Judith  looked  on  dubiously. 
It  was  plain  that  if  she  should  consent  it 
would  be  against  her  will. 

"It  looks  so  commonplace  and  ugly," 
she  said  aside  to  Juliet,  as  the  four  com- 
pleted the  tour  around  the  house  and  pre- 
pared to  enter.  "Your  home  is  old- 
fashioned  enough  to  be  interesting,  but 
this  is  just  modern  enough  to  be  ugly. 
Look  at  that  big  window  in  front  with  the 
cheap  coloured  glass  across  the  top.  What 
could  you  do  with  that?" 

"  Several  things,"  said  her  friend  prompt- 
ly. "You  might  put  in  a  row  of  narrow 
casement  windows  across  the  front,  with 
diamond  panes.  No — the  porch  isn't  at- 
tractive with  all  that  gingerbread  work, 


Two   Not  of  a  Kind 


223 


but  you  could  take  it  away  and  have 
something  plain  and  simple.  The  general 
lines  of  the  house  are  not  bad.  It  has 
been  an  old-fashioned  house,  Judith,  but 
somebody  who  didn't  know  how  has  altered 
it  and  spoiled  it.  People  are  always  doing 
that.  There  must  have  been  a  fanlight 
over  this  door.  You  could  restore  it. 
And  do  you  see  that  quaint  round  window 
in  the  gable?  Probably  they  looked  at 
that  and  longed  to  do  away  with  it,  but 
happily  for  you  didn't  know  how." 

Carey  glanced  curiously  at  his  friend's 
wife,  then  anxiously  at  his  own.  Juliet's 
face  was  alight  with  interest;  Judith's 
heavy  with  dissatisfaction.  He  wondered 
for  the  thousandth  time  what  made  the 
difference.  He  would  have  given  a  year's 
salary  to  see  Judith  look  interested  in  this 
desire  of  his  heart.  It  was  hard  to  push 
a  thing  like  this  against  the  will  of  the  only 
person  whose  help  he  could  not  do  without. 
Carey  was  determined  to  have  the  home. 
Even  Judith  acknowledged  that  she  had 
not  been  happy  in  any  of  the  seven  apart- 
ments they  had  tried  during  the  less  than 
four  years  of  their  married  life.  Carey 
believed  with  all  his  heart  that  their  only 


224  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

chance  for  happiness  lay  in  getting  away 
from  a  manner  of  living  which  was  using 
up  every  penny  he  could  earn  without 
giving  them  either  satisfaction  or  comfort. 
His  salary  would  not  permit  him  to  rent 
the  sort  of  thing  in  the  sort  of  neighbour- 
hood which  Judith  longed  for.  And  if  it 
should,  he  did  not  believe  his  wife  would 
find  such  environments  any  more  congenial 
than  the  present  one.  Carey  had  a  theory 
that  a  woman,  like  a  man,  must  be  busy  to 
be  contented.  He  meant  to  try  it  with  his 
handsome,  discontented  wife. 

"Oh,  what  a  pretty  hall!"  cried  Mrs. 
Robeson,  with  enthusiasm.  "  How  lucky 
that  the  vandals  who  made  the  house 
over  didn't  lay  their  desecrating  hands  on 
that  staircase." 

"The  hall  looks  gloomy  to  me,"  said 
Mrs.  Carey,  with  a  disapproving  glance  at 
the  walls. 

"Of  course  —  with  that  dingy  brown 
paper  and  the  woodwork  stained  that 
hideous  imitation  of  oak.  You  can  scrape 
all  that  off,  paint  it  white,  put  on  a  warm, 
rich  paper,  restore  your  fanlight,  and 
you'll  have  a  particularly  attractive  hall." 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  things  that  are  not 


Two  Not  of  a  Kind  225 

visible,  as  you  seem  to  be  able  to,"  sighed 
Judith,  looking  unconvinced.  "  I  never 
did  like  a  long,  straight  staircase  like  that. 
And  there's  not  room  to  make  a  turn/' 

"You  don't  want  to,  do  you?  It's  so 
wide  and  low  it  doesn't  need  to  turn,  and 
the  posts  and  rails  are  extremely  good. 
How  about  this  front  room  ?  " 

She  stood  in  the  center  of  the  front  room, 
and  the  two  msn,  watching  her  vivid  face 
as  it  glowed  above  her  furs,  noting  the 
capable,  womanly  way  she  had  of  looking 
at  the  best  side  of  everything  and  discern- 
ing in  a  flash  of  imagination  and  intuition 
what  could  be  clone  with  unpromising 
material,  appreciated  her  with  that  full 
masculine  appreciation  which  it  is  so  well 
worth  the  trouble  of  any  woman  to  win. 

Judith  was  not  blind  ;  she  saw  little  by 
little  as  Juliet  went  from  room  to  room — 
seizing  in  each  upon  its  possibilities,  ignor- 
ing its  poorer  features  except  to  suggest 
their  betterment,  giving  her  whole-hearted, 
friendly  counsel  in  a  way  which  continually 
took  the  prospective  homemakers  into  con- 
sideration— that  she  herself  waslosingsome- 
thing  immeasurably  valuable  in  not  at- 
tempting to  cultivate  these  same  winning 


226  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

characteristics.  And  in  the  same  breath 
Judith  was  forced  to  admit  to  herself  that 
she  did  not  know  how  to  begin. 

"  There  is  really  a  very  pretty  view  from 
the  dining-room,"  she  said,  as  a  first  effort 
at  seeing  something  to  admire.  Both 
Juliet  and  Anthony  agreed  to  this  state- 
ment with  a  cordiality  which  came  very  near 
suggesting  that  it  was  a  relief  to  find  Mrs. 
Carey  on  the  optimistic  side  of  the  discussion 
even  in  this  small  detail.  As  for  Carey,  he 
looked  so  surprised  and  grateful  that 
Judith's  heart  smote  her  with  a  vigour  to 
which  she  was  unaccustomed. 

"  I  suppose  you  could  use  this  room  as  a 
sort  of  den?"  she  was  prompted  to  suggest 
to  her  husband;  and  such  a  delighted  smile 
illumined  Carey's  face  that  the  sight  of  it 
was  almost  pathetic  to  his  friends,  who 
understood  his  situation  rather  better  than 
he  did  himself.  In  his  pleasure  Carey  put 
his  arm  about  his  wife's  shoulders. 

"Couldn't  I,  though?"  he  agreed  en- 
thusiastically. "And  you  could  use  it  fcr 
a  retreat  while  I  was  away  for  the  day." 

"A  retreat  from  what?  Too  much  ex- 
citement?" began  Judith,  the  old  habit  of 
scorn  of  everything  which  was  not  of  the 


Two  Not  of  a  Kind  227 

city  returning  upon  her  irresistibly.  But 
it  chanced  that  she  caught  Juliet's  eyes, 
unconsciously  wearing  such  an  expression 
of  solicitude  to  see  her  friend  complaisant 
in  this  matter  which  meant  so  much,  that 
Judith  hurriedly  followed  her  ironic  question 
with  the  more  kindly  supplement:.  "But 
doubtless  I  should  have  plenty,  and  be  glad 
to  get  away." 

"You  certainly  would,"  asserted  An- 
thony. "We  never  guessed  how  much 
there  would  be  to  occupy  us  in  the  country, 
but  there  seems  hardly  time  to  write  letters. 
Nobody  can  believe,  till  he  tries,  how  much 
pleasure  there  is  in  wheedling  a  garden  into 
growing,  nor  how  well  the  labour  makes  him 
sleep  o'  nights." 

"Yes — I  think  I  could  sleep  here,"  said 
Carey,  and  passed  a  hand  over  a  brow 
which  was  aching  at  that  very  moment. 
"  I  haven't  done  that  satisfactorily  for  six 
months." 

'You'll  do  it  here,"  Anthony  prophesied 
confidently.  "It's  a  fine  air  with  a  good 
breath  of  the  salt  sea  in  it,  which  we  don't 
get.  Your  sleeping  rooms  are  all  well 
aired  and  lighted — a  thing  you  don't  always 
find  in  more  pretentious  houses.  And 


228  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

\vhen  the  paint  and  paper  go  on  ycu'll  own 
yourselves  surprised  at  the  transformation. 
I  was  never  so  astonished  in  my  life  as  I 
was  at  the  change  in  the  little  bedroom  in 
our  house  which  has  that  pale  yellow-and- 
white  stripe  on  the  wall.  It  was  a  north 
room,  and  the  old  wall  was  a  forlorn  slate, 
like  a  thunder-cloud.  My  little  artist  here, 
with  her  eye  for  colours,  instantly  an- 
nounced that  she  would  get  the  sunshine 
into  that  room.  And  so  she  did — with  no 
more  potent  a  charm  than  that  fifteen-cent 
paper  and  a  fresh  coat  of  white  paint." 

Carey  looked  at  Juliet  with  longing  in 
his  eye.  He  wanted  to  ask  her  to  supervise 
the  alterations  in  his  purchase,  if  he  should 
make  it.  But  he  remembered  other  oc- 
casions wThen  he  had  held  the  sayings  and 
doings  of  Mrs.  Robeson  before  the  eyes  of 
Mrs.  Carey  with  disastrous  result,  and  he 
dared  not  make  the  suggestion.  He  hoped, 
however,  that  Judith  might  be  inclined  to 
ask  the  assistance  of  her  friend,  and  himself 
hinted  at  it,  cautiously.  But  Judith,  beyond 
inquiring  what  Juliet  thought  of  certain 
possible  changes,  seemed  inclined  to  shoul- 
der her  own  responsibilities. 

Anthony  left  his  wife  upon  the  home- 


Two  Not  of  a  Kind  229 

bound  train,  to  return  to  his  work;  the 
Careys  accompanied  him,  so  that  he  had 
no  chance  to  talk  things  over  until  he  came 
home  to  dinner  at  night.  But  when  he  saw 
Juliet  again  almost  her  first  words  showed 
him  where  her  thoughts  were. 

"Tony,  I  can't  get  those  people  off  my 
mind.  Do  you  suppose  they  will  ever  make 
a  home  out  of  anything? " 

"  They  haven't  much  genius  for  utilizing 
raw  material,  I'm  very  much  afraid," 
Anthony  responded  thoughtfully.  "Carey 
has  the  will,  and  he  can  furnish  a  moderate 
amount  of  funds,  but  whether  Judith  can 
furnish  anything  but  objections  and  con- 
trariety I  don't  dare  to  predict.  If  her 
heart  were  in  it  I  should  have  more  hope  of 
her.  There's  one  thing  I  can  tell  her.  If 
she  doesn't  set  her  soul  to  the  giving  the 
cH  boy  a  taste  of  peace  and  rest  she'll  have 
him  worn  out  before  his  time.  A  fellow  who 
doesn't  know  how  it  feels  to  sleep  soundly, 
and  whose  head  bothers  him  half  the  time, 
needs  looking  after.  He's  a  slave  to  his 
office  desk,  and  needs  far  more  than  an 
active  chap  like  me  to  get  out  of  the  city  as 
much  as  he  can." 

"Yes,  he's  worried  and  restless,  Tony. 


230  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

He's  so  devoted  to  Judith  and  so  anxious  to 
make  her  happy,  her  dissatisfaction  rests 
on  him  like  a  weight.  Don't  you  see  that 
every  time  you  see  them  together? " 

"  Every  time — and  more  plainly.  What's 
the  matter  with  her  anyhow,  Julie?  She 
seemed  promising  enough  as  a  girl.  You 
certainly  found  enough  in  her  to  make  you 
two  congenial.  She's  no  more  like  you 
than — electric  light  is  like  sunshine,"  said 
Anthony,  picking  up  the  simile  with  a 
laugh  and  a  glance  of  appreciation. 

"Judith  shines  in  the  surroundings  she 
was  born  and  brought  up  in,  misses  them, 
and  doesn't  know  how  to  adapt  herself  to 
any  others.  She  ought  to  have  been  the 
wife  of  some  high  official — she  could  enter- 
tain royally  and  have  everybody  at  her 
feet." 

"  Magnificent  characteristics,  but  mighty 
unavailable  in  the  present  circumstances. 
It  carries  out  my  electric-light  comparison. 
I  prefer  the  sunlight — and  I  have  it. — Poor 
Carey!" 

"We'll  hope,"  said  Juliet.  "And  if  we 
have  the  smallest  chance  to  help,  we'll  do  it. 

But,  as  Anthony  had  anticipated,  there 
was  small  chance  to  help.  Meeting  Carey 


Two  Not  of  a  Kind  231 

a  fortnight  later,  Anthony  inquired  after 
the  new  home,  and  Carey  replied  with  ap- 
parent lack  of  enthusiasm  that  the  house 
had  been  leased  for  a  term  of  three  years, 
with  refusal  of  the  purchase  at  the  expira- 
tion of  the  time.  He  explained  that  Judith 
had  been  unwilling  to  burii  her  bridges  by 
buying  the  place  outright,  and  that  he 
thought  perhaps  the  present  plan  was  the 
better  one — under  these  conditions.  But 
the  fact  that  the  house  was  not  their  own 
made  it  seem  unwise  to  expend  very  much 
upon  alterations  beyond  those  of  paint  and 
paper.  With  the  prospect  of  a  sale  the 
owner  had  unwillingly  consented  to  replace 
the  gingerbread  porch  with  one  in  better 
style,  but  refused  to  do  more.  The  big 
window,  with  its  abominable  topping  of 
cheap  coloured  glass,  was  to  remain  for  the 
present. 

"And  I  think  this  whole  arrangement  is 
bound  to  defeat  my  purpose,"  said  Carey 
unhappily.  "The  very  changes  we  can't 
afford  to  make  in  a  rented  house  are  the 
ones  Judith  needs  to  have  made  to  recon- 
cile her  to  the  experiment.  She  says  she 
feels  ill  every  time  she  comes  to  the  house 
and  sees  that  window.  She  wants  a  porce- 


232  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

lain  sink  in  the  kitchen.  She  would  like 
speaking-tubes  and  a  system  of  electric 
bells.  We're  to  have  a  servant — if  we  can 
find  her.  We've  put  green  paper  on  all  the 
downstairs  rooms,  and  it  turns  out  the 
wrong  green.  I  wanted  a  sort  of  corn-colour 
that  looked  more  cheerful,  but  it  seems 
green  is  the  only  thing.  I  don't  know 
what's  the  matter  with  me.  Perhaps  I'm 
bilious.  Green  seems  to  be  all  right  in 
your  house,  but  in  mine  it  makes  me  want 
to  go  outdoors." 

"That's  precisely  what  you  should  do," 
Anthony  advised  cheerfully.  "Get  out- 
doors all  you  can.  Start  your  garden. 
Mow  your  lawn  yourself.  Make  over  that 
gravel  path  to  your  front  door." 

"I've  only  evenings,"  objected  Carey. 
"And  we're  not  settled  yet.  The  paper's 
only  just  on.  We  haven't  moved.  We're 
buying  furniture.  We  bought  a  sideboard 
yesterday.  It  cost  so  much  we  had  to  get 
a  cheaper  range  for  the  kitchen  than 
seemed  desirable,  but  Judith  liked  the  side- 
board so  well  I  was  glad  to  buy  it.  I  don't 
know  when  we  shall  get  to  living  there 
permanently.  This  furnishing  business 
knocks  me  out.  We  don't  seem  to  know 


Two  Not  of  a  Kind  233 

what  we  want.  I'd  like — "  he  hesitated 
— "  I  hoped  Mrs.  Robeson  might  be  able  to 
give  us  the  advantage  of  her  experience, 
but  it  turns  out  that  Judith  has  a  sort  of 
pride  in  doing  it  herself,  and  of  course — I 
presume  you  made  some  mistakes  your- 
selves, eh  ?  "  He  suggested  this  with  eager- 
ness. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  agreed  Anthony  readily, 
though  he  wondered  what  they  were,  and 
inwardly  begged  Juliet's  pardon  for  this 
answer,  given  out  of  masculine  sympathy 
with  his  friend's  helplessness.  "You'll 
come  out  all  right,"  he  hastily  assured 
Carey.  "Once  you  are  living  in  the  new 
place  things  will  adjust  themselves.  Keep 
up  your  courage.  Your  daily  walk  to  and 
from  the  train  will  do  wonders.  Lack  of 
exercise  will  make  a  rainbow  look  gloomy 
to  a  fellow.  I  think  you've  great  cause  for 
rejoicing  that  Judith  has  agreed  to  try 
the  experiment  at  all.  And  as  with  all 
experiments,  you  must  be  patient  while  it 
works  itself  out." 

"  That's  so,"  agreed  Carey,  a  gleam  of  hope 
in  his  eyes;  and  Anthony  got  away.  But 
by  himself  the  happier  man  shook  his  head 
doubtfully.  "Where  everything  depends 


234  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

on  the  woman,"  he  said  to  himself,  "and 
you've  married  one  that  her  Maker  never 
fashioned  for  domestic  joys,  you're  certainly 
up  against  a  mighty  difficult  proposition!" 


XXIV. — THE  CAREYS  ARE  AT  HOME 

WAYNE  and  Judith  Carey  had  been  keep- 
ing house  for  two  months  before  Judith  was 
willing  to  accede  to  her  husband's  often 
repeated  request  that  they  entertain  the 
Robesons. 

"We've  been  there,  together  and  sepa- 
rately, till  it's  a  wonder  their  hospitality 
doesn't  freeze  up,"  he  urged.  "Let's  have 
them  out  to-morrow  night,  and  keep  them 
over  till  next  day,  at  least.  I'd  like  to 
have  them  sleep  under  this  roof.  They'd 
bring  us  good  luck." 

"  One  would  think  the  Robesons  were  the 
only  people  worth  knowing,"  said  Judith, 
with  a  petulance  of  which  she  had  the  grace, 
as  her  husband  stared  at  her,  to  be  ashamed. 

"They're  the  truest  friends  we  have  in 
the  world,"  he  said,  with  a  dignity  m of 
manner  unusual  with  him.  "  Sometimes  I 
think  they  are  the  only  people  worth 
knowing — out  of  all  those  on  your  calling 
list." 

"We  differ  about  that.  Your  ideas  of 
235 


236  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

who  are  worth  knowing  are  very  peculiar. 
Heaven  knows  I'm  fond  of  Juliet,  but  I  get 
decidedly  tired  of  having  her  held  up  as  a 
model.  And  I  haven't  been  anxious  to 
entertain  her  until  we  were  in  order." 

"We're  certainly  as  much  in  order  now 
as  we  shall  be  for  some  time.  Let's  have 
them  :>ut.  You'll  find  they'll  see  every- 
thing there  is  to  praise.  It's  their  way." 

So  Anthony  and  Juliet  were  asked,  and 
came.  Wayne's  prophecy  was  proven  a 
true  one — even  Judith  grew  complacent  as 
her  friends  admired  the  result  of  her  house- 
furnishing.  And  in  truth  there  was  much 
to  admire.  Judith  was  a  young  woman 
of  taste  and  more  or  less  discretion,  and 
if  she  could  have  had  full  sway  in  her 
purchasing  the  result  might  have  been 
admirable.  As  it  was,  the  unspoken  criti- 
cism in  the  minds  of  both  the  guests,  as 
they  followed  their  hosts  about  the  house, 
was  that  Judith  had  struck  a  key-note  in 
her  construction  of  a  home  a  little  too  am- 
bitious to  be  wholly  satisfactory. 

"  I  believe  in  buying  the  best  of  every- 
thing as  far  as  you  go,"  she  said,  indicating 
a  particularly  costly  lounging  chair  in  a 
corner  of  the  living-room.  "Of  course 


The  Careys  Are  at  Home  237 

that  was  very  expensive,  but  it  will  always 
be  right,  and  we  can  get  others  to  go  with 
it  The  bookcases  were  another  high- 
priced  purchase,  but  they  give  an  air  to 
the  room  worth  paying  for." 

"I've  only  one  objection  to  this  room," 
said  Wayne  with  some  hesitation.  "As 
Judith  says,  the  things  in  it  seem  to  be  atf 
right,  and  it  certainly  looks  in  good  taste, 
if  I'm  any  judge,  but — I  don't  know  just 

how  to  explain  it "  he  hesitated  again, 

and  smiled  deprecatingly  at  his  wife. 

"Speak  out,"  said  Judith.  She  was  in  a 
very  good  humour,  for  her  guests  had  shown 
so  fine  a  tact  in  their  commendation  that 
she  was  in  quite  a  glow  of  satisfaction,  and 
for  the  first  time  felt  the  pleasure  of  the 
hostess  in  an  attractive  home.  "  It  can't 
be  a  serious  objection,  for  you've  liked 
every  single  thing  we've  put  into  it." 

"Indeed  I  have,"  agreed  Carey,  eagerly 
glanjing  about  the  brilliantly  lit  room. 
"  I  like  it  all  awfully  well — especially  in  the 
daylight.  The  corner  by  the  window  is  a 
famous  place  for  reading.  But,  you  see,  I'm 
so  little  here  in  the  daytime,  except  on 
Sundays.  Of  course  I  know  we  lack  the 
fireplace  that  makes  your  living-room 


238  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

jolly,  but  it  seems  as  if  we  lack  something 
besides  that  we  might  have,  and  for  the 
life  of  me  I  can't  tell  what  it  is." 

Anthony  knew  by  a  certain  curve  in  the 
corner  of  his  wife's  mouth  that  she  longed 
to  tell  him  what  it  was.  For  himself,  he 
could  not  discover.  He  studied  the  room 
searchingly  and  was  unable  to  determine 
why,  attractive  as  it  really  was,  it  certainly 
did,  upon  this  cool  May  evening,  lack  the 
look  of  warm  comfort  and  hospitality  of 
which  his  own  home  was  so  full. 

"Possibly  it's  because  everything  is  so 
new,"  he  ventured.  "Rooms  come  to 
have  a  look  of  home,  you  know,  just  by 
living  in  them  and  leaving  things  about. 
It's  a  pretty  room,  all  right,  and  I  fancy  it 
will  take  on  the  friendly  expression  you 
want  when  you  get  to  strewing  your  books 
and  magazines  around  a  little  more,  and 
laying  your  pipe  down  on  the  corner  of  the 
mantel-piece,  you  know — and  all  that.  I 
can  upset  things  for  you  in  half  a  minute  if 
you'll  give  me  leave." 

"You  have  my  full  permission,"  said 
Judith,  laughing.  "  I  fancy  it's  just  as  you 
say:  Wayne  isn't  used  to  it  yet.  He  always 
likes  his  old  slippers  better  than  the  hand- 


The  Careys  Are  at  Home  239 

somest  new  ones  I  can  buy  him.  Come — 
dinner  has  been  served  for  five  minutes. 
No  more  artistic  suggestions  till  afterward." 

The  dinner  was  perfect.  It  should  have 
been  so,  for  a  caterer  was  in  the  kitchen,  and 
a  hired  waitress  served  the  viands  without 
disaster.  As  a  delectable  meal  it  was  a 
success;  as  an  exhibition  of  Mrs.  Carey's 
capacity  for  home  making,  it  was  something 
of  a  failure.  It  certainly  did  not  for  a 
moment  deceive  the  guests.  For  the  life 
of  her,  as  Juliet  tasted  course  after  course 
of  the  elaborate  meal,  she  could  not  help 
reckoning  up  what  it  had  cost.  Neither 
could  she  refrain  from  wondering  what  sort 
of  a  repast  Judith  would  have  produced 
without  help. 

After  dinner,  as  Wayne  and  Anthony 
smoked  in  front  of  the  fireless  mantel- 
piece in  the  den,  each  in  a  more  luxurious 
chair  than  was  to  be  found  in  Anthony's 
whole  house,  Judith  took  Juliet  to  task. 

"You  may  try  to  disguise  it,"  she  com- 
plained, "but  I've  known  you  too  long  not 
to  be  able  to  read  you.  You  would  rather 
have  had  me  cook  that  dinner  myself  and 
bring  it  in,  all  red  and  blistered  from  being 
over  the  stove." 


240  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"As  long  as  the  dinner  wasn't  red  and 
blistered  you  wouldn't  have  been  unhappy," 
Juliet  returned  lightly.  "  But  you  mustn't 
think  that  she  who  entertains  may  read  my 
ingenuous  face,  my  dear.  It  isn't  necessary 
that  I  attempt  to  convert  the  world  to  my 
way  of  thinking.  And  I  haven't  told  you 
that  when  Auntie  Dingley  goes  abroad  with 
father  again  this  winter  I'm  to  have  Mary 
McKaim  for  eight  whole  months.  I  can 
assure  you  I  know  how  to  appreciate  the 
comfort  of  having  a  competent  cook  in  the 
kitchen." 

She  got  up  and  crossed  the  rcom.  "Ju- 
dith, what  an  exquisite  lamp,"  she  observed. 
"I'd  forgotten  that  you  had  it.  Was  it 
one  of  your  wedding  presents? " 

Judith  followed  her  to  where  she  stood 
examining  an  imposing,  foreign  -  looking 
lamp,  with  jeweled  inlets  in  the  hand- 
wrought  metal  shade.  "Yes,"  she  said 
carelessly,  "it's  pretty  enough.  I  don't 
care  much  for  lamps." 

"Not  to  read  by?" 

"  It's  bright  enough  for  anybody  but  a 
blind  man  to  read,  here."  Judith  glanced 
at  the  ornate  chandelier  of  electric  lights 
in  the  centre  of  the  ceiling.  "The  rooms 


The  Careys  Are  at  Home  241 

aren't  so  high  that  the  lights  are  out  of 
reach  for  reading." 

"But  this  is  beautiful.  Have  you  never 
used  it?" 

"  It  might  be  used  with  an  electric  con- 
nection, I  suppose.  No,  I've  never  used 
it  as  an  oil  lamp.  I  hate  kerosene  oil." 

"  But  you  have  some  in  the  house? " 

"Oh,  yes,  I  think  so.  Wayne  insisted 
on  getting  some  little  hand-lamps.  Some- 
thing's always  happening  to  the  wires  out 
here.  That's  one  of  the  numerous  joys  of 
living  in  the  suburbs." 

"Let's  fill  this  and  try  it,"  Juliet  sug- 
gested, turning  a  pair  of  very  bright  eyes 
upon  her  friend.  "  If  you've  never  lit  it  I 
don't  believe  you've  half  appreciated  it. 
You're  neglecting  one  of  the  prettiest 
sources  of  decoration  you  have  in  the  house. 
Out  of  sympathy  for  the  giver,  whoever  he 
was,  you  ought  to  let  his  gift  have  a  chance 
to  show  you  its  beauty." 

"  Stevens  Cathcart  gave  it  to  us,  I  be- 
lieve," said  Judith.  "Here,  let  me  have 
it.  I'll  fill  it,  since  you  insist.  But  I  never 
thought  very  much  of  it.  It  was  put  away 
m  a  closet  until  we  came  here.  It  took  up 
so  much  room  I  never  found  a  place  for  it." 


242  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Mr.  Cathcart  gave  it  to  you?  That 
proves  my  point,  that  it's  worth  admiring. 
If  there's  a  connoisseur  in  things  of  this 
sort,  it's  he.  He  probably  picked  it  up  in 
some  out-of-the-ordinary  European  shop." 

Smiling  to  herself,  as  if  something  gave 
her  satisfaction,  Juliet  awaited  the  return 
of  her  hostess.  She  understood,  from  the 
manner  of  Judith's  exit  with  the  lamp,  that 
the  free  and  easy  familiarity  with  which 
guests  invaded  every  portion  of  Anthony's 
little  home,  was  not  to  be  made  a  precedent 
for  the  same  sort  of  thing  in  Judith's. 

The  lamp  reappeared,  accompanied  by  a 
lamentation  over  the  disagreeable  qualities 
of  kerosene  oil  for  any  use  whatever. 

"You  can  put  electricity  into  this  and 
use  it  as  a  drop-light,  if  you  prefer,"  said 
Juliet,  as  she  lit  it  and  adjusted  the  shade. 
"May  I  set  it  on  the  big  table  over  here? 
Right  in  the  center,  please,  if  you  don't 
mind  moving  that  bowl  of  carnations. 
There! — Of  course  you  can  send  it  back  to 
oblivion  over  there  on  the  bookcase  if  you 
really  don't  like  it. — But  you  do  like  it — 
don't  you?" 

"  It's  handsomer  than  I  thought  it  was," 
Judith  admitted  without  enthusiasm.  Juliet 


The  Careys  Are  at  Home  243 

glanced  up  at  the  blazing  chandelier  over- 
head. 

"May  I  turn  off  some  of  this  light?"  she 
asked.  "  You  won't  get  the  full  beauty  of 
your  lamp  till  you  give  it  a  chance  by  itself." 

Judith  assented.  Juliet  snapped  off  three 
out  of  the  four  lights,  and  smiled  mischiev- 
ously at  her  friend.  Then  she  extin- 
guished the  fourth,  so  that  the  only  lumi- 
nary left  in  the  room  was  the  lamp, 
Judith  groaned. 

"  Maybe  you  like  a  gloomy  room  like  this. 
I  don't.  Look  at  it.  I  can  hardly  see 
anything  in  the  comers." 

"  Wait  a  little  bit.  You're  so  used  to  the 
glare  your  eyes  are  not  good  for  seeing  what 
I  mean.  Study  the  lamp  itself  a  minute. 
Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  fascinating  as 
the  gleam  through  those  jewels?  An  elec- 
tric bulb  inside  would  add  to  the  brilliancy, 
though  it's  not  so  soft  a  light  to  read  by, 
and  the  effect  in  the  room  isn't  so  warm. 
Observe  those  carnations  under  the  lamp- 
light, honey  ?  Come  over  here  to  the  door- 
way and  look  at  your  whole  room  under 
these  new  conditions.  Isn't  it  charm- 
ing?—  enticing?  —  Let's  draw  that  lovely 
Morris  chair  up  close  to  the  table,  as  if 


244  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

you  were  expecting  Wayne  to  come  in 
and  read  the  evening  paper  Dy  the  lamp. 
There/" 

Juliet  softly  clapped  her  hands,  her  face 
shining  with  friendly  enthusiasm.  There 
could  be  no  question  that  the  whole  room, 
as  she  had  said,  had  taken  on  a  new  look  of 
home-like  comfort  and  cheer  which  it  had 
lacked  before.  Even  Judith  was  forced  to 
see  it. 

"It  looks  very  well,"  she  admitted. 
"But  I  should  have  more  light  from  above. 
I  like  plenty  of  light." 

"  So  do  I,  if  you  manage  it  well."  Where- 
upon the  guest,  having  gained  her  point 
and  made  sufficient  demonstration  of  it, 
turned  the  conversation  into  other  chan- 
nels. But  the  lamp  was  not  yet  through 
with  its  position  of  reformer.  The  two  men, 
having  finished  their  cigars,  and  hearing 
sounds  of  merriment  from  the  adjoining 
room,  came  strolling  in.  Anthony,  compre- 
hending at  a  glance  the  change  which  had 
come  over  the  aspect  of  the  room  and  the 
cause  thereof,  advanced,  smiling.  But 
Carey  came  to  a  standstill  upon  the  thres- 
hold, his  lips  drawn  into  an  astonished 
whistle. 


The  Careys  Are  at  Home  245 

"What's  happened?"  he  ejaculated,  and 
stood  staring. 

"Do  you  like  it?"  asked  his  wife. 

"  I  should  say  I  did.  But  what's  done 
it  ?  What  makes  the  room  look  so  different  ? 
It  looks — why  it  looks  like  your  rooms!" 
he  cried,  gazing  at  Anthony. 

"  He  can  say  nothing  more  flattering  than 
that,"  said  Judith,  evidently  not  altogether 
pleased.  "  It's  the  highest  compliment  he 
knows." 

Carey  stared  at  the  lamp.  "  I  didn't 
know  we  had  that,"  he  said.  "Is  it  that 
that  does  it?" 

"  I  fancy  it  is,"  said  Anthony.  "  I  never 
understood  it  till  I  was  taught,  but  it  seems 
to  be  a  fact  that  a  low  light  in  a  room  gives 
it  a  more  homelike  effect  than  a  high  one. 
I  don't  know  why.  It's  one  of  my  wife's 
pet  theories." 

"Well,  I  must  say  this  is  a  pretty  con- 
vincing demonstration  of  it,"  Carey  agreed, 
sitting  down  in  a  chair  in  a  corner,  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  still  studying  this,  to  him, 
remarkable  transformation.  "It  certainly 
does  look  like  a  happy  home  now.  Before, 
it  was  a  place  to  receive  calls  in."  He 
turned,  smiling  contentedly,  to  his  wife. 


246  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Something  about  the  glance  which  she 
returned  warned  him  that  further  ad- 
miration was  unnecessary.  The  con- 
tented smile  faded  a  little.  He  got  up  and 
came  over  to  the  table.  "  Now,  let's  have 
a  good  four-handed  talk,"  he  proposed. 

Two  hours  later,  in  the  seclusion  of  the 
guest-room  upstairs,  Anthony  said  under 
his  breath: 

"  They're  coming  on,  aren't  they?  Don't 
you  see  glimmerings  of  hope  that  some  day 
this  will  resemble  a  home,  in  a  sort  of  far- 
off  way?  Isn't  Judith  becoming  domes- 
ticated a  trifle?  She  didn't  get  up  that 
dinner?" 

Juliet  turned  upon  him  a  smiling  face, 
and  laid  her  finger  on  her  lip.  "Don't 
tempt  me  to  discuss  it,"  she  warned  him. 
"  My  feelings  might  run  away  with  me,  and 
that  would  never  do  under  their  very  roof." 

"Exemplary  little  guest!  May  I  say 
as  much  as  this,  then?  I'd  give  a  good  deal 
to  see  Wayne  speak  his  mind  once  in  a  way, 
without  a  side  glance  to  see  if  Her  Royal 
Majesty  approves." 

But  Juliet  shook  her  head.  "  Don't 
tempt  me,"  she  begged  again.  "There's 
something  inside  of  me  that  boils  and  boils 


The  Careys  Are  at  Home  247 

with  rage,  and  if  I  should  just  take  the  cover 

off " 

"Might  I  get  scalded?  All  right— I'll 
leave  the  cover  on.  Just  one  observation 
more.  When  I  get  inside  our  own  four 
walls  again  I'm  going  to  give  a  tremendous 
whoop  of  joy  and  satisfaction  that'll  raise 
the  roof  right  off  the  house ! " 


XXV.— THE  ROBESON  WILL 

WHEN  people  are  busy  and  happy  the 
years  may  go  by  like  a  dream.  So  the 
months  rolled  around  and  brought  little 
Tony  past  the  third  anniversary  of  his 
birth,  and  into  another  summer  of  lusty 
development.  Except  to  the  growing  child, 
however,  time  seemed  to  bring  slight 
changes  to  the  little  home  under  whose 
roof  he  grew.  The  mistress  thereof  lost  no 
charm  either  for  her  husband  or  her  friends 
— Anthony  indeed  insisted  that  she  grew 
younger;  certainly,  as  time  taught  her  new 
lessons  without  laying  hands  upon  her 
beauty,  she  gained  attractiveness  in  every 
way. 

"You  look  as  much  like  a  girl  as  ever," 
Anthony  said  to  her  one  morning,  as  dressed 
for  a  trip  into  town  she  came  out  upon  the 
porch  where  he  and  little  Tony  were  frolic- 
ing  together. 

"You  had  ever  a  sweetly  blarneying 
tongue,"  said  she,  and  bestowed  a  parting 
caress  impartially  upon  both  the  person? 
248 


The  Robeson  "Will  249 

before  her.  "  I  feel  a  bit  guilty  at  making 
a  nursemaid  of  you  for  even  one  morning  of 
your  vacation,  but ' 

"  That's  all  right.  Do  your  errands  with 
an  easy  conscience.  I'll  enjoy  looking  after 
the  boy,  and  am  rather  glad  your  usual 
little  maid  is  away.  That's  one  thing  my 
vacation  is  for — to  get  upon  a  basis  of 
mutual  understanding  and  confidence  with 
my  son.  We  see  too  little  of  each  other." 

So  Juliet  caught  the  early  car,  and  left 
the  two  male  Robesons  together,  father  and 
son,  waving  good-bye  to  her  from  the 
porch.  When  she  was  out  of  sight  the 
elder  Robeson  turned  to  the  younger. 

"  Now,  son,"  he  said,  "  I'm  going  to  mow 
the  lawn.  What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"  I  is  going  to  mow  lawn,  too,"  announced 
Tony,  Junior,  with  decision. 

"All  right,  sir.  Here  we  are.  Get  in 
front  of  me  and  mind  you  push  hard. 
That's  the  stuff!" 

All  went  joyously  for  ten  minutes.  Then 
little  Tony  wriggled  out  from  between  his 
father's  arms  and  went  over  to  the  porch 
step.  He  sat  down  and  crossed  two  fat 
legs.  He  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand, 
his  elbow  on  his  knee,  and  watched  with 


250  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

serious  eyes  the  progress  of  the  lawn-mower 
three  times  across  before  he  said  wistfully: 

"Favver,  I  wis'  you'd  p'ay  wiv  me." 

"When  I  get  this  job  done  perhaps  I 
will,"  said  Anthony,  and  made  the  grass 
fly  merrily.  Presently  he  put  away  the 
lawn-mower,  and  stood  looking  down  at 
the  sturdy  little  figure  in  the  blue  Russian 
blouse.  "What  do  you  want  to  play?" 
he  asked.  Tony's  face  lit  up. 

"  Le's  play  fire-endjun,"  he  proposed 
enthusiastically. 

"Where  shall  we  play  the  fire  is?" 

"  Le's  have  weal  fire,"  said  Tony  eagerly. 

"Real  fire?  Well,  I  don't  know  about 
that,  son,"  his  father  responded  doubtfully. 
"  Young  persons  of  three  are  not  considered 
old  enough  to  play  with  the  real  thing. 
Won't  make  believe  do  just  as  well?" 

"No,  no — weal  fire,"  repeated  the  child. 
"  Le's  put  it  out  wiv  sqi'yt  watto.  P'ease, 
fawer — p'ease ! "  . 

"Sqi'wt  watto',"  repeated  Anthony, 
laughing.  "What  do  you  mean  by—  -? 

Oh,  I  see "  as  Tony  demonstrated  his 

meaning  by  running  to  the  garden  hose 
which  remained  attached  to  a  hydrant 
behind  the  house.  "Well,  son — if  I  let 


The  Robeson  Will  251 

you  have  a  real  fire  and  put  it  out  with 
real  water,  will  you  promise  me  never  to  try 
anything  of  that  sort  by  yourself?" 

Tony  walked  over  to  his  father  and  laid 
a  little  brown  fist  in  Anthony's.  "Aw 
wight, ' '  he  said  solemnly.  Anthony  looked 
down  at  the  clasped  hands  and  smiled  at 
the  serious  uplifted  face.  "  Is  that  the 
way  mother  teaches  you  to  promise  her?" 
he  asked,  with  interest. 

Tony  nodded.  "Aw  wight,"  he  said. 
"Come  on.  Le's  make  fire!" 

The  fire  was  made,  out  of  a  packing-box 
brought  up  from  the  cellar.  It  burned 
realistically  down  by  the  orchard,  and  was 
only  discovered  by  chance  when  Anthony 
Robeson,  Junior,  happened  to  glance  that 
way. 

"Fire! — fire!"  he  shouted,  and  alarmed 
the  fire  company,  who,  as  fire  companies 
should  be,  were  ready  to  start  on  the  instant. 
The  hose-cart,  propelled  by  a  pair  of  stout 
legs,  made  a  gallant  dash  down  the  edge 
of  the  garden,  followed  by  the  hook-and- 
ladder  company,  their  equipment  just  three 
feet  long.  It  took  energetic  and  skilful 
work  to  quench  the  conflagration,  which 
raged  furiously  and  made  plenty  of  good 


252  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

black  smoke.  The  fire  chief  rushed  dramat- 
ically about,  ordering  his  men  with  ringing 
commands.  Once  he  stubbed  his  bare  toe 
and  fell,  and  for  a  moment  it  looked  as 
though  he  must  cry,  but  like  the  brave 
fellow  that  he  was  he  smothered  his  pain 
behind  an  uplifted  elbow,  and  in  a  moment 
was  again  in  the  thick  of  the  fray.  His 
men  obeyed  him  with  admirable  prompti- 
tude, although,  contrary  to  the  usual 
custom  of  fire  chiefs,  he  himself  took  hold 
of  the  hose  and  poured  its  volume  upon  the 
blazing  structure. 

When  the  fire  was  out  the  chief,  breath- 
less, his  blue  blouse  bearing  the  marks  of 
the  encounter  with  flood  and  flame,  sat 
down  upon  the  overturned  hose-cart  and 
beamed  upon  his  company. 

"Vat  was  awful  nice  fire,"  he  said. 
"Le's  have  anuver." 

"Another?  Oh,  no,"  protested  the  com- 
pany, hastily.  "  No  more  of  that  just  now. 
Pick  up  your  hook-and-ladder  wagon  and 
put  it  back  where  it  belongs.  I'll  see  to  the 
hose." 

Anthony  gently  displaced  the  fire  chief 
and  rolled  away  the  hose.  Then  he  looked 
back  down  the  garden  and  saw  his  son 


The  Robeson  Will  253 

poking  among  the  ruins  of  the  fire.  "  Come 
here,  Tony,"  he  called,  "and  bring  the 
hook-and-ladder. ' ' 

Tony  came  slowly,  but  without  the  toy 
wagon.  Anthony  stood  still.  When  the 
boy  reached  him  he  said,  "Why  didn't 
you  bring  the  hook-and-ladder  cart?" 

"  'Cause  I'm  ve  chief,"  Tony  responded 
gravely.  "My  mens'll  bring  ve  cart." 

"Your  men  aren't  there.  You'll  have 
to  bring  it  yourself." 

Tony  sho^k  his  head.  "  I'm  ve  chief,"  he 
repeated,  and  looked  his  father  in  the  eye. 
Anthony  understood.  It  was  not  the  first 
time.  There  were  moments  in  one's  ex- 
perience with  Anthony  Robeson,  Junior, 
when  one  seemed  to  encounter  a  deadlock 
in  the  child's  will.  Reasoning  and  com- 
mands were  apt  at  such  times  to  be  alike 
futile.  The  odd  thing  about  it  was  that  it 
was  impossible  to  predict  when  these 
moments  w<.re  at  hand.  They  arose  with- 
out warning,  when  the  boy  was  apparently 
in  the  best  of  tempers,  and  they  did  not 
seem  to  be  the  result  of  any  previous 
mismanagement  on  the  part  of  those  in 
authority  over  him. 

Of  one  point  Anthony,  Senior,  was  sure. 


254  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

The  child,  like  all  children,  and  possibly 
more  than  most,  possessed  a  vivid  imagina- 
tion. When  he  announced  himself  to  be 
a  fire  chief,  there  could  be  no  question  that 
he  believed  himself  to  be  for  the  time  that 
which  he  pretended  to  be.  His  father 
understood,  therefore,  that  to  make  progress 
with  the  boy  it  was  necessary  to  get  back  to 
the  standpoint  of  reality  before  commands 
could  be  expected  to  take  hold.  So  he  sat 
down  on  a  rustic  seat  near  Juliet's  roses 
and  spoke  in  a  pleasantly  matter-of-fact 
way. 

"Yes,  you've  been  a  fire  chief,  son, 
and  a  good  one.  That  was  a  great  game. 
But  the  game  is  over  now,  and  you're  not  a 
fire  chief  any  more.  You're  Tony  Robeson, 
and  the  little  hook-and-ladder  cart  is  your 
plaything.  Father  wants  you  to  bring  it 
here  and  put  it  in  its  place  in  the  house. 
It  looks  a  little  bit  like  rain,  and  the 
cart  mustn't  be  left  out  to  get  wet. 
See?" 

But  Tony  still  shook  his  head.  "My 
men'll  put  it  in,"  he  said,  with  calmness 
undisturbed. 

"You  haven't  any  men.  You  played 
there  were  some,  but  the  play  is  over  and 


The  Robeson  Will  255 

there  aren't  any  men.  If  you  don't  put 
the  cart  in  it  may  get  wet." 

"  I'm  ve  chief,"  said  little  Tony.  "  Chiefs 
don't  draw  carts." 

"  When  they've  turned  back  to  little  boys 
they  do.  You've  turned  back  to  a  little 
boy." 

"No,  I  hasn't,"  said  Tony,  and  his  eyes 
met  his  father's  unflinchingly.  "  I's  going 
to  be  a  chief  all  ve  time." 

The  argument  seemed  unanswerable. 
Anthony  considered  swiftly  what  to  do. 
He  studied  the  grave  brown  eyes  an  instant 
in  silence,  their  beauty  and  the  inflexibility 
in  their  depths  appealing  to  him  with  equal 
force.  He  loved  the  tough  little  will. 
He  recognised  it  as  his  own — the  same 
powerful  quality  which  had  brought  him 
thus  far  on  the  road  to  fortune  after  being 
landed  at  the  furthermost  end  from  the 
goal.  He  would  not  for  worlds  deal  with 
his  son's  will  in  any  but  the  way  which 
should  seem  to  him  wisest. 

He  rose  from  his  seat.  He  spoke  quietly 
but  with  force.  "Very  well,"  he  said. 
"  If  you're  still  a  fire  chief,  of  course  you're 
too  big  to  play.  I'm  much  obliged  to  you 
for  putting  out  my  fire.  But  now  that  it's 


256  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

out  I  don't  want  your  hook-and-ladder  in 
my  garden  any  longer.  When  your  men 
take  it  away  I  shall  be  glad.  But  of  course 
we  can't  play  any  more  till  you  stop  being 
a  fire  chief  and  the  hook-and-ladder  is  back 
in  its  corner  in  the  nursery.  Good-bye. 
When  you  are  ready  to  be  Tony  Robeson 
again,  you'll  find  me  in  my  den." 

He  smiled  at  his  son  and  walked  away. 
Tony  watched  him  go.  Tony's  hands  were 
clasped  behind  his  back,  his  legs  planted 
wide  apart. 

Anthony,  Senior,  found  it  difficult  to  re- 
main in  the  den.  He  was  obliged  to  keep 
track  of  a  small  figure  in  a  blue  blouse 
from  whichever  of  the  various  windows 
commanded  the  doings  of  that  young 
person.  He  perceived  that  the  fire  chief 
was  still  holding  dominion  over  the  scene. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  small  footsteps 
were  heard  approaching.  Anthony  looked 
up  from  the  letter  he  was  attempting  to 
write.  "  Fawer,  may  I  have  a  bread  and 
butter? "  asked  a  pleasant  voice.  Anthony 
turned  about  in  his  chair. 

"  Is  the  hook-and-ladder  in  the  nursery? " 
he  inquired  gravely. 

Tony  shook  his  head. 


The  Robeson  Will  257 

"Oh,  then  you  are  still  the  fire  chief. 
Fire  chiefs  go  to  the  hotel  for  their  bread 
and  butter.  I  haven't  any  bread  and 
butter  for  the  fire  chief." 

He  turned  back  to  his  desk.  The  small 
figure  in  the  doorway  stood  still  a  moment, 
then  the  footsteps  were  heard  retreating. 
Five  minutes  later,  Anthony,  looking  out, 
saw  Tony  careering  about  the  garden  on  a 
hobby-horse. 

"Obstinate  little  duffer,"  he  said  affec- 
tionately to  himself.  "  He's  playing  go  to 
the  hotel,  I  suppose.  Perhaps  when  that 
imagination  of  his  gets  to  work  at  hypo- 
thetical bread  and  butter  he'll  find  the 
reality  preferable  to  the  fancy." 

In  a  short  time  Anthony  again  recon- 
noitred. The  garden  was  empty.  He 
looked  out  at  the  front  of  the  house.  No 
small  figure  in  blue  was  to  be  seen.  He 
went  out  and  took  a  turn  about  the  place. 
He  called  the  boy;  there  was  no  response. 
From  past  experience  and  from  the  state- 
ments of  Juliet  and  the  young  girls  of  the 
neighbourhood,  whom,  at  various  times, 
she  was  in  the  habit  of  engaging  to  assist 
her  in  the  oversight  of  the  child  at  his 
play,  he  knew  that  Tony  had  a  trick  of 


258  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

getting  himself  out  of  sight  in  an  incredibly 
brief  space  of  time. 

"  As  a  fire  chief  he  may  consider  himself 
free  to  do  what  he  pleases,"  said  Anthony 
to  himself,  and  set  about  a  thorough 
search  of  the  place,  having  no  doubt  that 
at  any  moment  he  should  come  upon  the 
boy  carrying  out  the  details  of  his  imaginary 
vocation.  After  a  time  he  went  back  into 
the  house  and  scoured  it  from  top  to  bottom. 
And  when,  even  here,  there  was  to  be  dis- 
covered no  trace  of  the  child,  he  began  to 
feel  a  slight  uneasiness. 

There  was  no  source  of  immediate  danger 
to  a  stray  child  in  the  neighbourhood,  of 
which  he  was  aware,  except  the  electric 
line,  and  little  Tony  had  never  manifested 
the  slightest  inclination  to  approach  this  by 
himself.  There  were  no  open  ponds,  no 
traps  of  any  kind  for  the  incautious  feet  of 
a  three-year-old.  Everybody  knew  Tony, 
and  everybody  admired  and  loved  him,  so 
that,  as  Anthony  took  up  his  hat  and 
started  upon  a  more  extended  search,  he 
had  no  doubt  whatever  of  finding  the  run- 
away without  delay. 

In  a  very  short  time  it  became  a  rousing 
of  the  neighbourhood.  It  was  Saturday, 


The  Robeson  Will  259 

and  all  the  children  who  knew  Tony  were 
at  hand.  They  were  soon  eagerly  searching 
for  him  near  and  far,  without  finding  the 
slightest  trace  of  his  passing.  Anthony,  now 
thoroughly  alarmed,  telephoned  in  every 
direction,  warned  every  police  station  in  the 
city,  and  took  every7  possible  step  for  the 
discovery  of  the  child.  It  occurred  to  him 
with  tremendous  force  that  the  boy  might 
have  been  stolen.  Such  things  did  happen. 
It  seemed  almost  the  only  way  to  account 
for  such  a  sudden  and  mysterious  disap- 
pearance. 

Before  it  seemed  possible  two  hours  had 
slipped  past.  And  now,  on  every  car 
which  whirled  by  the  corner,  Anthony 
began  to  expect  Juliet.  He  dreaded  yet 
longed  to  see  her.  He  turned  cold  at  the 
thought  of  telling  her  the  situation,  yet  at 
the  same  time  he  felt  as  if  she  might  have 
some  sort  of  a  solution  ready  which  nobody 
^Ise  had  thought  of.  And  while,  still 
searching  over  and  over  the  entire  ground, 
he  kept  watch  of  the  arriving  cars,  he  saw 
his  wife  suddenly  appear.  He  went  to 
meet  her. 

"What  is  it?  '  she  said,  the  instant  her 
eye  met  his. 


260  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"  I  think  it's  all  right,  dear,"  he  told  her, 
as  quietly  as  he  could,  "but  somehow  we 
can't  find  Tony.  He  disappeared  during 
five  minutes  when  I  was  in  the  house — too 
short  a  time  for  him  to  have  got  very  far 
away,  but — we  can't  find  him.  Do  you 
think  he  may  be  hiding?  Does  he  ever 
hide  himself  so  effectually  as  that?" 

The  bright  colour  in  her  face  had  slipped 
out  of  it  on  the  instant,  for  he  could  not 
keep  the  anxiety  out  of  his  voice.  But 
she  said  no  word  of  reproach,  nor  did  she 
lose  command  of  herself  in  any  way. 

"  How  long  has  he  been  gone  ? "  she  asked, 
going  straight  toward  the  house,  Anthony 
close  behind  her. 

"  I  think — I  am  afraid — nearly  two  hours. 
I  will  tell  you  what  happened.  It  is  pos- 
sible something  I  said  is  responsible  for  all 
this,  though  I  don't  know." 

She  was  going  swiftly  about  the  house, 
as  he  told  her  the  story  of  his  attempt  to 
teach  the  boy  a  lesson,  and  she  was  listening 
closely  to  every  word  as  she  examined  for 
herself  each  nook  and  corner.  She  dis- 
closed several  possible  hiding  places  of  which 
Anthony  had  not  thought,  explaining  that 
Tony  knew  them  all  and  sometimes  betook 


The  Robeson  "Will  261 

himself  to  them  in  the  course  of  various 
games.  The  two  came  out  upon  the  porch, 
and  Juliet  stood  still,  thinking. 

"  You  have  done  everything  to  intercept 
him,  if  he  should  really  have — got  far 
away  ? " 

"  Everything  I  can  think  of,  except  start 
out  myself.  I  am  ready  to  do  that,  if  you 
think  best." 

"  Not  until  I  have  gone  over  the  neigh- 
bourhood myself.  I  don't  believe  he  is  far 
away — I  believe  he  is  near.  He  may  have 
heard  every  call  you  and  the  children 
have  made,  and  wouldn't  answer.  If  by 
any  chance  his  pride  has  been  a  little  hurt, 
he  is  very  likely  to  do  this  sort  of  thing. 
Wait — have  you  looked — I  wonder  if  the 
children  know " 

She  was  off  without  stopping  to  explain, 
through  the  garden  and  down  the  old 
willow-bordered  path  by  the  brook.  An- 
thony followed.  "I've  been  down  here  a- 
dozen  times,"  he  called.  "  The  brook  is  too 
shallow  to  hurt  him,  and  he's  certainly  not 
anywhere  on  it  within  a  mile.  The  children 
have  been  all  over  the  ground." 

But  Juliet  did  not  pause.  She  ran  along 
the  path  for  some  distance,  then  turned 


262  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

abruptly  at  a  point  where  an  abandoned  lot 
filled  with  stumps  joined  the  area  by  the 
brook.  She  made  her  swift  way  among 
these  stumps,  Anthony  following,  his  hope 
rising  as  he  noted  the  directness  of  his 
wife's  aim.  At  the  biggest  stump  she 
came  to  a  standstill,  carefully  swung  out- 
ward like  a  door  a  great  slab  of  bark,  and 
disclosed  a  hollow.  The  sunlight  streamed 
in  upon  a  little  heap  of  blue,  and  a  tangled 
brown  mass  of  hair.  Anthony  Robeson, 
Junior,  lay  fast  asleep  in  his  cunningly 
devised  retreat. 

Without  a  word  his  father  stood  looking 
down  at  the  boy's  flushed  cheeks.  Then 
he  turned  to  Juliet,  standing  beside  him, 
smiling  through  the  tears  which  had  not 
come  until  the  anxiety  was  past.  His  own 
eyes  were  wet. 

"That  was  a  bad  scare,"  he  said  softly. 
"Thank  God  it's  over." 

Then  he  stooped  and  gently  lifted  the 
fire  chief  and  carried  him  home  without 
waking  him.  Twenty  children  flocked  joy- 
fully from  all  about  to  see,  and  hushed 
their  shouts  of  congratulation  at  Juliet's 
smiling  warning. 

Anthony  went  alone  down  the  garden 


The  Robeson  Will  263 

to  the  place  where  the  hook  -  and  -  ladder 
cart  had  stood.  It  was  still  there.  He 
stood  and  looked  at  it,  his  eyes  very  tender 
but  his  lips  firm.  "The  little  chap  didn't 
give  in,"  he  said  to  himself.  "It's  going 
to  be  hard  to  make  him,  but  for  the  sake 
of  the  Robeson  will  I  think  we'll  have  to 
take  up  the  job  where  we  left  it.  I'd 
mightily  like  to  flunk  the  whole  business 
now,  but  I  should  be  a  pretty  weak  sort  of 
a  beggar  if  I  did." 

When  little  Tony  had  wakened  from  his 
nap,  and  had  been  washed  and  brushed 
and  fed,  and  made  fresh  in  a  clean  frock, 
his  mother  brought  him  to  his  father. 

"  Is  this  Tony  Robeson? "  Anthony  asked 
soberly.  Tony  considered  for  a  moment, 
then  shook  his  head. 

"  I's  ve  fire  chief,"  he  said,  with  polite 
stubbornness. 

"Have  your  men  put  away  the  hook- 
and-ladder  cart?" 

"No,  fayver." 

"  Are  they  going  to  do  it?  " 

"I  didn't  tell  vem  to." 

"Why  not?" 

"Didn't  want  to." 

"Listen,  son,"  said  Anthony.     "I  could 


264  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

make  the  fire  chief  put  away  the  cart. 
I'm  stronger  than  he  is,  you  know.  I 
could  make  him  walk  out  to  where  it  lies 
in  the  garden,  and  I  could  make  his  hands 
pick  it  up  and  carry  it  into  the  house,  and 
then  it  would  be  done. — Don't  you  think 
I  could?" 

Tony  considered.  "  Es,  I  fink  'ou  could," 
he  admitted.  Evidently  the  question  was 
one  he  could  reflect  upon  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  outsider. 

"But  I  don't  want  to  do  that.  I  want 
Tony  Robeson  to  put  the  cart  away 
because  his  father  asks  him  to  do  it.  Don't 
you  think  he  ought  to  do  that?" 

"I  isn't  Tony  Robeson,  I'se  ve  fire 
chief." 

"  Were  you  the  fire  chief  when  you  woke 
up,  and  mother  washed  you  and  dressed 
you  and  gave  you  your  lunch?  I  don't 
think  she  thought  you  were.  If  you  had 
been  the  fire  chief  she  would  have  left  you 
to  take  care  of  yourself." 

Tony  thought  about  it.  "I  dess  I'se 
Tony  wiv  muwer,"  he  said. 

"  Then  you  aren't  Tony  with  me  ? " 

The  thick  locks  shook  vehemently  in  the 
sir  with  the  negative  response.  "  I  said  I 


The  Robeson  Will  265 

was  ve  fire  chief,  and  I'se  got  to  be  ve 
fire  chief,"  he  reiterated. 

Without  question  it  was  a  battle  of 
wills.  But  Anthony's  mind  was  made  up. 
For  lack  of  time  to  deal  with  them  previous 
similar  issues  had  been  dodged  in  various 
ways,  compromises  had  been  effected.  It 
was  plain  that  argument  and  reasoning, 
the  wiles  of  the  affectionately  wise  adver- 
sary who  does  not  want  to  bring  the  mat- 
ter to  a  direct  conflict,  had  been  tried.  An- 
thony could  see  no  way  out  except  to 
dominate  the  child  by  the  force  of  his  own 
resolute  character.  It  was  not  the  way 
by  which  he  wanted  to  obtain  the  mastery, 
but  it  was  becoming  plain  to  him  that,  in 
this  case,  at  least,  it  was  the  only  way  left. 

His  face  grew  stern  all  at  once,  his  eyes, 
though  still  kind,  met  his  son's  with  deter- 
mination. "  Tony,"  he  said  very  gravely — 
and  there  was  a  new  quality  in  his  tone  to 
which  the  child  was  not  accustomed — 
"You  are  not  the  fire  chief  now.  You 
are  Tony  Robeson.  /  shall  not  let  you  be 
the  -fire  chief  any  longer.  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 

There  was  no  threat  in  the  words,  only 
a  decisiveness  of  the  sort  before  which 


266  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

men  give  way,  because  they  see  that 
there  is  no  alternative.  Tony  stared  into 
his  father's  eyes  curiously.  His  own  grew 
big  with  wonder,  with  something  which 
was  not  alarm,  but  akin  to  it.  He  gazed 
and  gazed,  as  if  fascinated.  Anthony's 
look  held  his;  the  man's  powerful  eyes 
did  not  flinch  —  neither  did  the  boy's.  It 
is  possible  that  both  pulses  quickened  a 
beat. 

Little  Tony  drew  his  eyes  away  at  last, 
turned  and  started  for  the  door.  Silently 
Anthony  watched  him  as  he  reached  for  the 
knob,  turned  again,  and  looked  back  at  his 
father.  On  the  very  threshold  the  child 
stood  still  and  stared  back.  His  brown 
eyes  filled,  his  red  lips  quivered.  The  stern 
face  which  watched  his  melted  into  a  win- 
ning smile,  and  Anthony  held  out  his  arms. 
An  instant  longer,  and  his  son  had  run 
across  the  floor  and  flung  himself  into 
them. 

When  the  childish  storm  of  tears  had 
quieted,  and  several  big  hugs  had  been 
exchanged,  Anthony  set  the  boy  down  upon 
the  floor  and  took  his  hand.  Silently  the 
two  walked  out  of  the  house  and  down  the 
garden.  The  hook-and-ladder  cart  stood 


The  Robeson  Will  267 

patiently  waiting,  just  where  it  had  waited 
•all  day.  Little  Tony  ran  to  it  and  picked 
it  up.  Over  his  exquisite  face  broke  the 
first  smile  that  had  been  seen  there  since 
the  earliest  disregarded  command  of  the 
morning. 

"Ve  fire  chief's  gone,"  he  said.  "He 
was  a  bad  fire  chief." 

So  together  the  man  and  the  boy  escorted 
the  hook-and-ladder  cart  to  the  nursery, 
and  backed  it  carefully  into  its  stall,  be- 
tween the  milk  wagon  and  the  automobile. 
Then  the  child  went  to  his  play.  But  the 
man  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  I  would  rather  manage  a  hundred 
striking  workmen,"  he  said  to  himself  with 
emphasis. 


XXVL— ON  GUARD 

WHILE  little  Tony  had  been  growing, 
waxing  strong  and  sturdy :  while  Juliet  had 
been  tending  and  training  him,  learning, 
as  every  mother  does,  more  than  she  could 
impart:  Anthony,  in  his  place,  had  not 
stood  still.  The  strength  and  determi- 
nation he  had  from  the  first  hour  put  into 
his  daily  work  had  begun  to  tell.  His 
position  in  a  great  mercantile  establish- 
ment had  steadily  advanced  as  he  had 
made  himself  more  and  more  indispensable 
to  its  heads. 

Cathcart,  the  successful  architect,  began 
to  talk  about  a  new  home  for  the  man  into 
whose  hands  Henderson  and  Henderson 
were  putting  large  interests  to  manage 
for  them,  and  whose  salary,  he  asserted, 
must  now  justify,  indeed  call  for,  life  under 
more  ideal  surroundings  than  the  little  home 
in  the  unfashionable  suburb  which  poverty 
had  at  first  made  necessary. 

"Let  me  draw  some  plans  for  you," 
urged  Cathcart,  one  evening  in  June,  when 
268 


On  Guard  269 

he  had  run  out  to  see  his  friend.  Juliet 
was  by  chance  away,  and  Cathcart  took 
advantage  of  this  to  call  Anthony's  at- 
tention, in  a  politely  frank  fashion,  to 
the  shortcomings  of  his  present  residence. 
"It's  all  right  in  its  way,"  he  said,  stand- 
ing upon  a  corner  of  the  lawn  with  An- 
thony, and  surveying  the  house  critically. 
"Mrs.  Robeson  certainly  deserves  full 
credit  for  the  admirable  way  in  which 
she  restored  the  old  house  and  added 
just  the  changes  in  keeping  with  its  possi- 
bilities. I've  always  said  it  couldn't  have 
been  better  done,  with  the  means  you've 
told  me  you  were  able  to  put  at  her  dis- 
posal. But  the  place  is  too  small  for  you 
now." 

"I  don't  think  we  feel  it  so,"  said  An- 
thony tentatively,  strolling  beside  Cathcart 
along  the  edge  of  the  lawn,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  lifting  friendly  eyes  at  the  little 
house.  "  Since  we  put  in  the  bathroom — 
that  small  room  off  the  upper  hall,  you 
know — and  added  the  nursery  and  den, 
we're  very  comfortable.  The  furnace  keeps 
us  warm  as  toast,  and  we're  soon  to  have 
the  water  system  out  here,  so  we  won't 
have  to  depend  upon  our  present  expedients. 


270  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

I'm  fond  of  the  place,  and  I'm  confident 
Mrs.  Robeson  is  devoted  to  it." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  agreed  Cath- 
cart.  "Of  course,  the  spot  where  you 
began  life  together  will  always  have  its 
charm  for  you  both — in  fact  the  sentiment 
of  the  matter  may  blind  you  to  the  real 
inadequacies  of  the  place  for  a  man  in  your 
position." 

"  My  position  isn't  so  stable  that  I  want 
to  build  a  marble  palace  on  it  yet,"  said 
Anthony,  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  eye. 
He  enjoyed  watching  another  man  man- 
oeuvre for  his  favourable  hearing  of  a 
scheme.  It  was  an  art  in  which  he  was 
himself  accomplished;  it  was  one  of  the 
points  of  his  value  to  Henderson  and 
Henderson. 

"  Everybody  knows  that  you're  in  a  fair 
way  to  become  head  man  with  the  Hender- 
sons," said  Cathcart,  "and  everybody  also 
knows  that  you  might  as  well  have  struck 
a  gold-mine.  It's  superb,  the  way  you 
have  come  into  the  confidence  of  those 
old  conservatives." 

"That's  all  well  enough;  but  I  don't  see 
that  it  entails  upon  me  the  duty  of  laying 
out  all  I've  saved  on  a  new  house.  I 


On  Guard  271 

know  what  you  fellows  are — when  you  begin 
to  draw  plans  your  love  of  the  ideal  runs 
away  with  the  other  man's  pocketbook." 

"Not  at  all,"  declared  Cathcart.  "Par- 
ticularly when  he's  a  friend  and  you  under- 
stand just  what  he  can  afford  to  do." 

"  Why  don't  you  talk  about  enlarging  the 
old  house?  That's  much  more  likely  to 
appeal  to  my  desires." 

The  two  had  reached  the  back  of  the 
house  and  were  close  by  the  kitchen  win- 
dows. Cathcart  reached  up  and  took  hold 
of  a  sill.  With  a  strong  hand  he  wrenched 
and  pounded  about  the  window,  until  he 
succeeded  in  showing  that  it  was  old  and 
uncertain. 

"That's  why,"  he  said,  dusting  his  hand 
with  his  handkerchief.  "  The  house  is  old — 
fairly  rotten  in  places.  The  minute  you 
began  to  enlarge  it  in  any  ambitious  way 
you'd  find  it  would  be  cheaper  to  tear 
it  down  and  begin  again.  But  the  site, 
Robeson — the  site  isn't  desirable:  The 
place  is  respectable  enough,  but  it  has  no 
future.  The  good  building  is  all  going 
south,  not  north,  of  the  city.  You  don't 
want  to  spend  a  lot  of  money  here — you 
couldn't  sell  out  except  at  a  loss." 


272  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"Your  arguments  are  good,  very  good," 
admitted  Anthony;  "so  good  that  I'd  like 
to  put  you  on  your  mettle  to  draw  me  a  set 
of  plans  for  just  the  sort  of  thing  you  think 
I  ought  to  have — or  Mrs.  Robeson  ought 
to  have,  for  she's  the  one  to  be  considered. 
Anything  will  do  for  me.  I'll  let  you  do 
this — on  one  condition." 

"Name  it." 

"That  you  also  do  your  level  best  to 
demonstrate  to  me  what  a  clever  man  and 
an  artist  of  your  proportions  could  make 
out  of  this  house,  provided  he  really  wanted 
to  show  the  extent  of  his  ability.  Now, 
that's  fair.  If  you  really  care  to  convince 
me  you  won't  fool  with  this  proposition, 
you'll  make  a  study  of  the  one  problem  as 
thoroughly  as  you  do  of  the  other,  and  let 
me  decide  the  case  on  its  merits.  If  I 
thought  you  weren't  giving  the  old  house 
a  fair  chance  I  should  take  up  ite  cause  out 
of  pure  affection." 

He  smiled  at  Cathcart's  discontented  face 
with  so  brilliant  a  good  humour  that  the 
architect  cleared  up. 

"By  Jove,  Robeson,"  he  said,  "I  think 
I  see  what  endears  you  to  the  Hendersons. 
I  wouldn't  have  said  you  could  have  in- 


On  Guard  273 

duced  me  to  try  my  hand  at  the  old  house, 
but  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  don't  follow  your 
instructions  to  the  letter — and  win  out, 
too." 

"Good,"  said  Anthony.  "And  don't 
mention  it  to  my  wife.  We'll  keep  it  for 
a  surprise;  and  I  promise  you  when  the 
time  comes  I  won't  prejudice  her  in  any 
way." 

Cathcart  drew  out  a  notebook  and  pencil 
and  entered  some  memoranda  on  the  spot, 
while  Anthony,  coming  up  on  the  piazza  of 
the  dining-room,  laid  upon  the  old  Dutch 
house-door  a  hand  which  seemed  to  caress 
it.  He  was  wondering  if  by  any  possible 
magic  Cathcart  could  create,  in  the  rarest 
abode  in  the  world,  a  new  door  which  he 
should  ever  care  to  enter  as  he  now  cared 
to  enter  this. 

"I  think,"  said  Juliet  decidedly,  "you're 
wrong  about  it." 

"And  I  know,"  returned  Anthony  with 
emphasis,  "  that  you  are." 

The  two  faced  each  other.  They  were 
walking  through  a  short  stretch  of  wood- 
land, which  lay  as  yet  untouched  by  the 
hand  of  suburban  property  owners.  It 


274  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

was  a  favourite  ground  for  the  diversions 
of  the  Robesons,  when  they  had  not 
time  to  spend  in  getting  farther  away. 
They  had  been  strolling  through  it  now, 
in  the  early  June  evening,  discussing  a 
matter  relative  to  the  investment  of  a 
certain  moderate  sum  of  money  which 
had  come  into  Anthony's  hands.  It  de- 
veloped that  their  ideas  about  it  differed 
radically. 

"  It's  not  safe  to  do  as  you  propose,"  said 
Juliet. 

"To  do  what  you  propose  would  be  only 
one  better  than  tying  it  up  in  an  old  stock- 
ing— or  putting  it  away  in  the  coffee  pot. 
It's  essentially  a  woman's  plan — no  man 
would  do  it  the  honour  of  considering  it  a 
moment." 

Juliet  flushed  brilliantly.  Even  in  An- 
thony's cheek  the  colour  rose  a  little.  Their 
eyes  met  with  a  challenge. 

"Very  well,"  said  Juliet  proudly.     "I'll 
offer  no  more  woman's  plans.     Invest  the 
money  as  you  like.     Then,   when  you've 
lost  it- 
Anthony's    eyes    flashed.     "When    I've 

lost  it "   he  began,  and  turned   away 

with   a   gesture   of  impatience.     Then  he 


On  Guard  275 

stopped  short.  "That  isn't  like  you,"  he 
said. 

Juliet  stared  at  him  an  instant.  Then 
she  shut  her  lips  together  and  walked  on  in 
silence.  Anthony  shut  his  lips  together 
also.  It  was  not  their  habit  to  indulge  in 
sharp  altercation.  While  both  had  decided 
ideas  about  things,  both  were  also  much 
too  well  bred  to  be  willing  to  allow  differ- 
ences of  opinion — which  must  arise  as 
inevitably  as  two  human  beings  live  under 
the  same  roof — to  degenerate  into  the 
deplorable  thing  commonly  referred  to  as 
a  quarrel. 

When  they  had  proceeded  a  few  rods 
Juliet  turned  abruptly  off  from  the  path 
and  picked  up  from  the  ground  a  slender 
straight  stick,  evidently  cut  and  trimmed 
by  some  boy  and  then  thrown  aside.  She 
looked  about  her  and  after  some  search 
found  another,  of  similar  size,  untrimmed. 
She  held  out  the  latter  to  Anthony.  He 
accepted  it  with  a  look  of  surprise.  Then 
she  walked  into  the  path  in  front  of  him, 
stood  stiff  and  straight,  her  small  heels 
together,  and  made  him  the  fencer's  salute. 
"  On  guard ! "  she  cried. 

His  lips  relaxing,  Anthony  grasped  his 


276  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

stick  and  fell  into  position.  A  moment 
more  and  two  accomplished  fencers  were 
engaged  in  close  combat. 

Juliet  happened  to  be  wearing  a  trim 
linen  skirt  of  short  walking  length,  which 
impeded  her  movements  as  slightly  as  any- 
thing not  strictly  adapted  to  the  exercise 
could  do.  Although  her  fencing  lessons 
were  some  years  past,  the  paraphernalia 
belonging  both  to  herself  and  Anthony 
were  in  the  house,  and  an  occasional  bout 
with  the  masks  and  foils  was  a  means  of  ex- 
ercise and  diversion  which  both  thoroughly 
enjoyed.  Although  Juliet  was  no  match 
for  the  superior  skill  and  endurance  of  her 
husband,  she  was  nevertheless  no  mean 
antagonist,  and  her  alertness  of  eye  and 
hand  usually  gave  him  sufficient  to  do  to 
make  the  encounter  a  stimulating  one. 

On  the  present  occasion  Anthony,  chal- 
lenged to  combat  with  his  coat  and  cuffs  on, 
and  wielding  the  more  awkward  weapon 
of  the  two  impromptu  foils,  found  himself 
distinctly  at  a  disadvantage.  Moreover, 
he  was  at  the  moment  not  precisely  in  the 
mood  for  fun,  and  he  began  to  defend  him- 
self with  a  somewhat  lazy  indifference. 
After  a  minute  or  two,  however,  he  dis- 


On  Guard 


277 


covered  that  his  adversary's  slightly  ruffled 
temper  was  inspiring  her  hand  and  wrist 
to  distinctly  effective  work,  and  he  found 
himself  forced  to  look  to  his  methods. 

Attack  and  parade,  disengagement  and 
thrust — the  battle  was  waged  over  the  un- 
even ground  of  the  wood.  And  presently 
Anthony  discovered  that  the  richly  glowing 
face  opposite  his  was  a  smiling  one.  The 
absurdity  of  the  match  struck  him  irre- 
sistibly and  he  smiled  in  return.  He 
tripped  a  little  over  an  obtruding  oak-root, 
and  Juliet  took  advantage  of  her  opportun- 
ity to  press  him  hard.  He  fended  off  the 
attack  and  himself  assumed  the  aggressive. 
An  instant  more  and  he  had  disarmed 
her  and  had  thrown  his  own  stick  flying 
after  hers.  Both  were  laughing  heartily 
enough. 

"  Forgive  the  trick,"  cried  Anthony.  "  A 
man  must  disarm  his  wife  when  she  be- 
comes his  enemy." 

Breathless,  Juliet  sank  upon  a  small 
knoll,  her  hand  at  her  side.  "If  I'd  been 
dressed  for  it — '•  she  panted. 

;<  You  need  coaching  on  your  time  thrusts, 
but  you  gave  me  plenty  to  do  as  it  was," 
Anthony  admitted.  "More  than  that, 


278  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

you've  presented  me  with  a  chance  to  re- 
cover my  equilibrium.  I  was  hot  inside 
before.  Now  it's  all  on  the  outside." 

He  looked  down  at  her  affectionately. 
She  smiled  back.  "  I  was  crosser  than 
sticks,"  she  said.  "I  really  can't  imagine 
why,  now.  I  apologise." 

"So  do  I."  He  threw  himself  down  on 
the  ground  at  her  feet,  lay  flat  on  his  back, 
his  clasped  hands  behind  his  head,  and 
gazed  up  into  the  tree-tops. 

"I'll  take  your  advice  into  careful  con- 
sideration," said  he. 

"I  know  you  won't  do  anything  rash," 
said  she,  and  they  both  laughed  again. 

"How  much  more  diplomatic  that  sort 
of  talk  is,"  he  observed.  "Why  do  we 
ever  allow  ourselves  to  use  any  other?" 

"Because  we  are  human,  I  suppose." 
Juliet  was  putting  a  mass  of  waving  brown 
hair,  disordered  by  the  fight,  into  shape 
again.  "It  isn't  nice.  We  don't  do  it 
often.  To-night  you  came  home  tired,  and 
found  a  wife  who  had  been  entertaining 
people  from  town  all  the  afternoon.  But 
it's  all  right  now,  isn't  it?" 

She  bent  forward,  and  Anthony  took 
her  outstretched  hand  in  his  own  and  gave 


On  Guard  279 

it  a  grip  which  made  it  sting.  He  began 
to  whistle  cheerfully. 

"  Should  we  be  happier  if  we  never  dis- 
agreed?" she  asked  thoughtfully. 

The  whistle  stopped.  "Jupiter,  no!  I 
want  a  thinking  being  to  talk  things  over 
with,  not  a  mental  pincushion." 

"Thank  you.— Isn't  it  lovely  here?" 

"Delightful. — Julie,  do  you  know  we'll 
have  been  married  five  years  next  Sep- 
tember?" 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible." 

"I  shouldn't  know  it,  to  look  at  you," 
he  observed.  He  rolled  upon  his  left  side 
and  regarded  her  from  under  intent  brows. 
"You  haven't  grown  a  day  older." 

"  I'm  not  sure  that's  a  compliment." 

"  It's  meant  for  one.  Do  you  know  you're 
a  beauty?" 

"I  never  was  one  and  never  shall  be," 
she  answered  laughing,  but  she  could  not 
object  to  the  obvious  sincerity  of  his 
opinion  as  he  delivered  it. 

"You're  near  enough  to  satisfy  me. 
I'd  rather  have  your  good  looks  than  all 
the — Well,  I  sat  in  front  of  a  newly  married 
pair  on  the  way  home  to-night — that 
fellow  Scrivener  and  his  bride.  She's  what 


280  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

people  call  a  raving  beauty,  I  suppose.  I 
wouldn't  have  her  in  the  house  at  a  dollar 
an  hour.  She's  a  whiner.  Had  him  doing 
something  to  satisfy  her  whim  every 
minute.  I  heard  him  trying  to  tell  her 
about  something  that  interested  him,  but 
she  couldn't  take  time  from  herself  to 
listen.  His  voice  had  a  note  of  fatigue  in 
it,  already,  or  I'm  not  Robeson.  I  tell  you, 
Juliet — that's  the  sort  of  thing  that  makes 
a  bachelor  vow  to  stay  single,  and  he  can't 
be  blamed." 

"Suppose  a  bachelor  had  overheard  us 
half  an  hour  ago? " 

"I'm  glad  none  did — but  if  he  had  it 
wouldn't  have  disgusted  him  the  way  the 
other  sort  of  thing  did  me  to-day.  A 
brisk  little  altercation  is  nothing,  with  un- 
limited hours  of  friendliness  and  under- 
standing before  and  after.  But  a  perpetual 
drizzle  of  fault  finding  and  exactions- 
would  make  a  fellow  go  hang  himself.  Mrs. 
Robeson,  do  you  know,  you're  a  very 
exceptional  young  person?" 

"  In  what  way,  sir  ? " 

"  Whatever  you  do,  you  never  nag.  I've 
an  awful  suspicion  that  Judith  Carey 
nags.  You  know  how  to  let  a  man  alone 


On  Guard  281 

when  he's  in  the  mood  for  being  alone.  She 
never  does.  Carey  had  me  out  there  not 
long  ago,  for  what  he  called  a  quiet,  confi- 
dential talk  on  some  business  matters. 
We  went  into  what  is  supposed  to  be  his 
private  room  and  shut  the  door.  Probably 
she  came  to  that  door  not  less  than  twelve 
times  during  that  two  hours.  She  called 
Carey  away  on  every  sort  of  pretext. 
Once  she  got  him  to  do  a  stroke  of  work  for 
her  that  took  up  at  least  ten  minutes 
neither  of  us  could  spare.  And  she  looked 
like  a  thundercloud  every  time  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  her  face.  Cassar! — think  of 
having  to  live  with  that  sort  of  person.  No 
wonder  Carey  looks  old  before  his  time." 

"  It's  certainly  unfortunate.  But  I'm 
not  an  exception,  Tony.  There  are  plenty 
of  women  who  know  when  to  keep  out  of 
the  way." 

"  Well,  then,  they're  erratic  on  some  other 
line,  that's  all.  You're  absolutely  the  only 
thoroughly  sweet  and  sane  woman  I  know." 

'  My  dear  boy!  Remember  how  snappish 
I  was  just  this  evening." 

"  I  was  grouchy  enough  to  match  it.  I 
tell  you,  Julie — the  women  who  don't  talk 
you  to  death  on  every  subject,  important 


282  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

or  trivial,  bore  you  with  idiotic  questions  or 
impertinence  about  your  affairs.  How  do 
I  know  so  much  about  'em?  My  dear, 
dozens  of  them  come  into  the  office  every 
day,  and  Mr.  Henderson  has  acquired  a 
habit  lately  of  turning  them  all  over  to  me. 
I  earn  a  double  salary  every  hour  I  spend 
that  way — wish  I  could  put  in  a  demand 
for  it.  Speaking  of  salaries,  dear" — An- 
thony suddenly  sat  up— "I've  no  right  to 
be  grouchy,  for  I'm  promised  another 
advance  next  month." 

"  Splendid! "  She  put  out  her  hand,  and 
the  two  shook  hands  vigorously  again,  like 
the  pair  of  comrades  they  were. 

"Juliet,"  said  her  husband,  watching  her 
face  closely.  "  It's  been  a  happy  five  years, 
hasn't  it?" 

"A  happy  five  years,  Tony." 

"Do  you  mean  it?"  He  smiled  at  her 
"You've  never  been  sorry?"  Then  he  got 
to  his  feet  and  held  out  his  hand  again  to 
help  her  up.  "The  mortal  combat  we 
engaged  in  gave  you  a  magnificent  colour,'' 
he  commented,  and  passed  affectionate  fin- 
gers across  the  smooth  cheek  near  his 

shoulder.     "Sweetheart "  he  drew  her 

into  h»s  arms — "  I  may  fence  with  you  once 


On  Guard  283 

m  a  while  with  sharp  words  for  weapons, 
but — do  you  know  how  I  love  you? " 

"  I  wonder  why?" 

"It's  strange,  isn't  it? — after  all  these 
years.  To  be  really  up-to-date,  we  should 
long  since  have  become  interested  each  in 
some  other " 

A  hand  came  gently  but  effectually  upon 
his  mouth.  He  kissed  the  hand.  "No,  I 
won't  say  it.  It's  a  cynical  philosophy, 
and  I'll  not  take  its  language  on  my  lips — 
not  with  my  wife  in  my  arms,  giving  the 
lie  to  that  sort  of  thing.  Julie,  we're 
not  sentimentalists  because  we  still  care ' 

•'Who  thinks  we  are?" 

"  Plenty  of  envious  skeptics,  I'll  wager. 
I  see  it  in  their  green-eyed  glances.  They 
can't  believe  it's  genuine.  Dear — is  it 
genuine?  Look  up,  and  tell  me." 

She  looked  up,  and  seeing  his  heart  in  his 
eyes,  met  his  deep  caress  with  a  tenderness 
which  told  him  more  than  she  could  have 
put  into  the  words  she  suddenly  found  it 
impossible  to  speak. 


XXVII. — LOCKWOOD  PAYS  A  CALL 

"  DID  you  know  Roger  Barnes  was  back  ? " 
asked  Wayne  Carey  of  Anthony  Robeson, 
on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-fifth  of  June, 
as  the  two  met  on  the  street  corner  from 
which  Anthony  was  to  take  his  car.  Elec- 
trics ran  within  a  few  rods  of  his  home  now, 
but  they  ran  only  at  fifteen-minute  inter- 
vals and  were  difficult  to  catch. 

"  No.  To  stay  this  time,  I  hope? " 
"  Off  again  to-morrow.  Never  saw  such 
a  fellow — restless  as  a  fish.  Been  working 
all  winter  in  Vienna — off  to-morrow  on  the 
Overland  Limited  to  sail  Saturday  for 
Hongkong.  Goes  to  do  a  special  operation 
on  the  Emperor's  brother  or  some  swell  of 
the  sort.  He's  been  doing  some  mighty 
slick  operating,  according  to  the  medical 
review  I  ran  across  in  a  throat  specialist's 
office." 

"  I  must  see  him.     Where  is  he  ? " 
"At  your  house  now,  more  than  likely. 
Said  he'd  got  to  see  you,  and  if  you  haven't 
seen  him  yet  you're  sure  to  before  he  goes 
284 


Lock-wood  Pays  a  Call  285 

to-morrow  night.  By  the  way.  Anthony, 
do  you  know  what  we  heard  lately  about 
Rachel  Redding — Huntington?  That  she 
wasn't  married  to  Huntington  till  the  night 
he  died,  almost  three  years  ago." 

Anthony  stared. 

"  Guess  it's  straight,  too,"  pursued  Carey. 
"  Queer  she  should  have  kept  it  all  this  time. 
Didn't  Juliet  hear  from  her  at  all? " 

"Only  once  or  twice,  I  believe." 

"Her  father  and  mother  both  died  last 
winter." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

j 

"  The  man  who  told  me  was  a  traveller. 
Said  she  and  Huntington's  mother  were 
coming  back  to  live  East  again.  He  was 
an  Eastern  man  himself — knew  Hunting- 
ton,  and  got  interested  when  he  heard  the 
name  out  in  Arizona.  'Alexander  Hunt- 
ington's' rather  an  uncommon  name,  you 
know.  But  what  could  have  been  her 
motive  for  keeping  everything  so  still? " 

"I've  no  idea,"  said  Anthony,  and  let 
Carey  talk  on  by  himself  till  the  car  came. 
He  was  unwilling  to  discuss  Rachel  Red- 
ding's  affairs  on  a  street  corner  even  with 
Wayne  Carey,  because  she  was  Juliet's 
friend.  But  he  had  an  idea  as  to  why 


286  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Rachel  had  been  so  reserved  about  herself. 
There  were  three  men  in  the  East  whose 
interest  in  Huntington's  life  or  death  had 
not  been  an  altogether  unbiased  one.  He 
could  understand  that  the  girl  would  not 
be  eager  to  declare  herself  free  to  them, 
though  the  fact  of  Huntington's  death  had 
reached  them  soon  after  its  occurrence.  But 
this  other  fact — that  she  had  married  him 
only  at  the  last  moment — it  was  obvious 
that  the  sort  of  girl  Rachel  Redding  was 
would  never  make  capital  out  of  that 
strange  occurrence,  whatever  its  explana- 
tion might  be.  That  Roger  Barnes  knew 
nothing  of  it  he  was  quite  certain. 

He  missed  Juliet  from  the  corner  where 
she  and  the  boy  usually  met  him,  and 
hurrying  on  to  the  house  came  upon  his 
wife  just  as  she  was  leaving. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  realise  I  was  late,  dear," 
she  said,  while  Anthony  swung  his  little 
son  up  to  his  shoulder,  eliciting  triumphant 
shouts  as  a  reward.  "Tony,  Rachel  is 
here." 

"Rachel?" 

"  Hush — yes;  she's  upstairs,  and  her  win- 
dow is  open.  Walk  down  the  orchard  with 
me  and  I'll  tell  you.  Her  coining,  an 


Lockwood  Pays  a  Call  287 

hour  ago,  was  what  made  me  forget  the 
time." 

"  Carey  was  talking  about  her  this  after- 
noon," said  Anthony,  strolling  by  her  side 
and  carrying  on  a  frolic  with  the  boy  at  the 
same  time.  "He'd  just  heard  a  singular 
thing — that  she  wasn't  married  to  Hunt- 
ington  till  the  very  night  he  died." 

"  She  told  me.  She's  going  away  to- 
night, she  insists;  but  I  shall  not  let  her. 
No,  Mr.  Huntington  wouldn't  let  her  marry 
him.  After  they  went  away  he  said  he 
wouldn't  take  her  unless  he  got  well.  Tony, 
he  was  a  fine  character;  in  our  sympathy 
for  Roger  Barnes  we  haven't  appreciated 
him.  It  was  only  at  the  last  that  he  let 
her  do  it.  She  found  out  how  happy  it 
would  make  him  then,  and  she  would  have 
it  so." 

"I'm  glad  she  did — poor  fellow.  Juliet, 
Roger  Barnes  is  in  town." 

"Really?"  Juliet  stopped,  her  breath 
catching.  "Oh,  Tony-  -" 

"  Came  day  before  yesterday — leaves  to- 
morrow night  for  Hongkong." 

"Tony!" 

Anthony  looked  down  at  her,  smiling. 
"There's  a  situation  for  you.  Can  you  be 


288  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

expected  to  keep  your  friendly  hands  off 
that  possibility? " 

"He  won't  go  away  without  coming  to 
see  us?" 

"Most  certainly  not." 

"Then  he  will  naturally  come  to-night." 

"It's  more  than  probable." 

"Tony,  I  won't  be  trying  to  manage 
fate — that's  what  the  doctor  calls  it — if 
I  keep  Rachel  here  until  after— 

"  Until  after  the  Overland  Limited  leaves 
for  San  Francisco?  Well,  fate  needs  a 
little  assistance  once  in  a  while.  I  think 
you  may  legitimately  persuade  Rachel  to 
stay,  if  you  can.  What  is  her  hurry,  any- 
way?" 

"  I  can't  find  out,  except  that  I  imagine 
she's  afraid  of  meeting  one  of  the  men  she 
most  assuredly  would  meet  if  they  knew 
she  had  come.  She  thinks  Roger  Barnes 
is  in  Vienna  still." 

"  She  does?  Ye  gods!  I  think  my  knees 
will  begin  to  tremble  if  I  see  their  meeting 
imminent.  Come,  son,  let's  try  a  race  to 
the  house.  I'll  give  you  to  the  big,  crooked 
apple  tree.  One — two — three — go!" 

Juliet  followed  more  slowly,  thinking 
busily.  Rachel  had  been  very  decided  about 


Lockwood  Pays  a  Call  289 

going  back  into  the  city  that  night.  Mrs. 
Huntington,  Senior,  was  with  friends,  who 
had  begged  her  daughter's  acceptance  of 
their  hospitality,  and  for  the  elder  woman's 
sake  she  had  acquiesced.  Rachel  was  a 
keeper  of  promises,  Juliet  knew.  And  to 
tell  her  of  the  probability  of  the  doctor's 
appearance  would  be  a  doubtful  means 
of  securing  her  detention.  But  if,  for  any 
reason,  the  doctor  should  fail  to  appear — 
Juliet  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would 
give  fate  her  chance  until  nine  o'clock  that 
night.  If  by  that  time  Barnes  had  not 
come 

Juliet  looked  on  eagerly  while  Anthony 
greeted  Rachel.  Her  friend  had  never 
seemed  to  her  so  lovely  as  now,  in  her  sim- 
ple black  gown,  accentuating,  as  it  did,  the 
deep  tone  of  her  hair  and  eyes.  Her  face 
had  gained  in  colour  and  contour  in  the 
Arizona  climate — its  tints  were  richer.  The 
delicacy  of  her  features  was  not  changed, 
but  their  beauty  was  greater. 

;<  You've  lived  much  outdoors,  I  see," 
said  Anthony,  when  dinner  was  over  and 
the  three  had  gone  out  upon  the  porch, 
"and  it's  been  good  for  you." 


290  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"I've  even  slept  outdoors,"  Rachel  told 
them,  "fully  half  the  year;  and  ridden 
horseback  every  day.  I  can't  quite  think 
how  the  electrics  are  going  to  seem  in  place 
of  my  gallop  on  Scot.  The  people  on  the 
ranch  where  we  were  have  simply  made 
me  do  the  things  they  did.  The  owner  was 
a  dear  old  gentleman;  he  gave  me  Scot. 
He  wanted  to  send  him  after  me ;  but  nurses 
have  small  use  for  horses,  I  believe,"  she 
ended,  smiling. 

"That's  the  plan,  is  it?" 
"Yes.     It's  what  I  can  do  best,  I  think. 
I  am  to  enter  the  training-school  the  first 
of    July,    at     the     Larchmont    Memorial 
Hospital." 

"  I'll  wager  tremendous  odds  you  don't," 
thought  Anthony,  "in  spite  of  that  confi- 
dent tone.  If  Roger  Barnes  looks  in  to- 
night it's  all  up  with  your  plans — or  make 
a  bigger  fight  than  even  you  can  do.  A 
man  who  can't  stay  in  his  own  town  because 
you  are  out  of  it- 
He  was  sitting — purposely — where  he 
faced  the  road.  He  had  considerately 
offered  Rachel  a  chair  with  her  back  to  the 
highway.  Juliet  was  swinging  lightly  in 
the  hammock  behind  the  vines.  Anthony, 


Lockwood  Pays  a  Call  291 

talking  on  about  Arizona  and  the  Larch- 
mont  Memorial,  kept  an  eye  on  the  ap- 
proach to  the  house  from  the  corner  where 
visitors  always  left  the  car.  His  watch  was 
rewarded  at  length  by  the  sight  of  a  figure 
rapidly  turning  the  comer  and  making 
straight  for  the  house. 

"Now  we're  in  for  it,"  he  thought. 
"From  now  on  the  question  with  Juliet 
and  me  will  be  how  we  can  most  gracefully 
efface  ourselves  without  seeming  to  do  it. 
If  I  remember  this  young  person  correctly 
she's  a  little  difficult  to  leave  unchaperoned 
against  her  will." 

Out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  he  kept  track 
of  the  approaching  figure.  It  was  coming 
on  at  a  great  pace,  and  in  the  twilight  could 
be  seen  looming  taller  and  taller  as  it  crossed 
the  road  and  turned  in  across  the  lawn,  mak- 
ing a  short  cut  according  to  Barnes's  own 
fashion,  so  that  the  coming  footsteps  were 
noiseless,  even  to  the  moment  when  the 
figure  reached  the  porch  itself. 

"Now  for  it,"  thought  Anthony,  feeling 
as  if  the  curtain  were  about  to  ascend  on 
the  fourth  act  of  a  play,  when  the  third  had 
ended  amidst  all  possible  excitement. 

"  I  found  the  roses  blooming  just  as  they 


292'  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

used  to  do,  at  the  side  of  the  house" — 
Rachel's  warm,  contralto  voice  was  answer- 
ing a  question  from  Juliet — "only  so  un- 
tended.  I  think  I  shall  have  to  come  out 
again  before  I  begin  my  work,  to  look  after 
them." 

Anthony  did  not  turn  as  the  step 
he  had  been  watching  for  sounded  upon 
the  porch.  To  save  his  life  he  could  not 
help  keeping  his  eyes  upon  Rachel's  face. 
Rachel  herself  looked  up  with  the  air  of 
the  visitor  who  does  not  know  the  guests 
of  the  house,  and  the  expression  Anthony 
saw  upon  her  face  showed  only  the 
slightest  possible  surprise  —  certainly  no 
other  feeling. 

Juliet  rose.  "Ah,  Mr.  Lockwood,"  she 
said,  with  a  cordiality,  sincere  little  person 
though  she  was,  Anthony  knew  for  once 
she  did  not  feel.  "  In  the  dusk  I  couldn't 
be  quite  sure." 

Lockwood's  eyes  instantly  turned  to 
Rachel.  That  he  had  known  in  some  way 
whom  he  was  to  see  was  evident  from  a 
most  unusual  agitation  in  his  manner, 

"Mrs. — Huntington,"  he  got  out  some- 
how, taking  her  hand,  and  staring  eagerly 
down  into  her  face,  "  I  heard  you  were 


Lockwood  Pays  a  Call  293 

home,  and  I  hoped  to  find  you  here.     I — • 
you  are — I  am  extremely  glad " 

Half  an  hour  later  Anthony  came  upon 
his  wife  in  the  darkness  of  the  dining- 
room.  "  Oh,  you  shouldn't  have  left  them 
when  I  was  away,"  she  said.  "Little 
Tony  cried  out  and  I  had  to  go.  I  know 
Rachel  doesn't  want  to  be  left  with  him 
to-night." 

"Angels  and  chaperons  defend  us,"  mut- 
tered Anthony.  "  I  can't  stand  it  forever 
to  feel  a  man  wanting  to  kill  me  for  staying 
by  him  through  a  meeting  like  this,  after 
three  years.  I  didn't  know  but  Lockwood 
would  attempt  to  throw  me  off  my  own 
porch.  Give  him  a  chance — he  hasn't  any, 
anyhow." 

"It's  after  nine,"  whispered  Juliet." 

"  I  know  it.  Roger's  taking  a  terrible 
risk." 

"  He  doesn't  know  she's  here.  But  I 
thought  he  cared  enough  for  us  to " 

"  That's  what  I've  been  so  sure  of.  He's 
probably  been  detained  by  some  case.  He's 
getting  so  distinguished,  the  minute  he  sets 
foot  in  town  now  the  folks  with  things  the 
matter  with  them  begin  to  block  his  path. 


294  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

I  hope  she  knows  what  she  throws  over  her 
shoulder  if  she  refuses  him  now." 

"I  don't  see  that  she's  going  to  have  a 
chance  to  refuse  him,"  mourned  Juliet. 
"  Do  you  think  he'd  ever  forgive  us  if  we  let 
him  get  away  without  knowing  she  was 
here?" 

"Lockwood  found  it  out,  somehow. 
Carey's  safe  to  tell  him  if  he  sees  him — and 
he's  pretty  sure  to,  at  Roger's  club." 

"You  couldn't  telephone?" 

"Where?  If  he  can  he'll  come  here,  if 
only  to  get  news  of  her.  She's  never  let 
him  write  to  her,  has  she  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  she  hadn't  when  he  was 
here  last  fall.  And  she  didn't  know  where 
he  was." 

' '  Fellow-conspirator, ' '  whispered  An- 
thony, "we'll  give  fate  her  chance  to- 
night. If  she  bungles  the  game  we'll  take 
it  into  our  own  hands  to-morrow.  But 
I've  a  feeling  I'd  like  to  let  it  happen  by 
itself,  if  it  will." 

When  Lockwood  had  gone — which  was 
not  until  eleven  o'clock,  in  spite  of  the  way 
his  hosts  remained  in  his  vicinity — Rachel 
stood  still  upon  the  porch  smiling  a  little 
wearily  at  Juliet. 


Lockwood  Pays  a  Call  295 

"My  staying  all  night  has  been  settled 
for  me,"  she  said.  "  There  was  no  way  to  go." 

"  Luckily  for  us,"  Juliet  answered.  "  Sit 
here  a  little  longer,  dear.  It's  such  a 
perfect  night,  and  I  know  we  shall  see  little 
enough  of  you  when  you  get  at  work." 

Rachel  dropped  into  the  hammock.  "I 
should  like  to  lie  here  all  night,"  she  said, 
"and  watch  the  stars  until  I  go  to  sleep. 
I've  done  that  so  many,  many  nights  from 
under  a  tent  flap." 

All  at  once  she  looked  up,  her  eyes 
widening.  Upon  the  porch  step  stood  a 
strong  figure — as  unlike  Lockwood's  grace- 
fully slender  one  as  possible.  A  man's 
eyes  were  gazing  steadily  down  into  hers — • 
determined  gray  eyes,  with  a  light  in  them. 
The  two  faces  were  plainly  visible  to  each 
other  in  the  radiance  from  the  open  door 


XXVIII. — A  HIGH-HANDED  AFFAIR 

IF  she  had  not  been  standing  in  the  door- 
way Juliet  would  have  run  away,  but  she 
had  to  welcome  Dr.  Roger  Barnes,  a  traveler 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  almost  a  year. 
Her  presence,  however,  after  one  glad  greet- 
ing, seemed  not  to  bother  him  much.  He 
turned  from  her  to  Rachel,  who  had 
risen,  and  took  her  outstretched  hand  in 
both  his. 

"It's  been  rather  a  long  evening,"  he 
said,  "wandering  around  and  around  this 
place,  waiting  for  the  other  man  to  go.  I 
explored  the  orchard  and  the  willow  path, 
and  every  familiar  haunt.  I  had  to  refresh 
myself  occasionally  by  stealing  up  for  a 
glimpse  of  your  face  between  the  vines. 
But,  somehow,  that  only  made  it  harder  to 
wait.  I  had  to  march  myself  off  again, 
with  my  fists  gripped  tight  in  my  pockets 
to  keep  them  off  that  fellow,  eating  you  up 
with  his  eyes — confound  him — you,  who 
belong  only  to  me." 

He  did  not  smile  as  he  said  the  last  words, 
296 


A  High-Handed  Affair  297 

but  stood  looking  eagerly  at  her  with  a  gaze 
that  never  faltered.  She  tried  to  draw  her 
hands  away;  it  was  useless.  Juliet  slipped 
off,  knowing  that  neither  of  them  would 
see  her  go. 

"Come  down  on  the  lawn  with  me," 
he  said,  but  she  resisted. 

"Please  stay  here,  Doctor  Barnes,"  she 
said,  "  and  please  let  me  have  my  hand.  I 
can't  talk  so." 

"  You  needn't  talk — for  a  while,"  he  an- 
swered. He  sat  down  facing  her.  "At 
six  o'clock  I  found  out  you  were  here. 
At  eight — as  soon  as  I  could  get  away 
— I  came  out.  I  told  you  how  I  spent 
the  evening.  If  I  had  needed  anything  to 
sharpen  my  longing  for  you  that  would 
have  done  it — but  I  think  I  had  reached 
about  the  limit  of  what  I  could  bear  in  that 
line  already.  It  has  been  one  constant 
augmenting  thirst  for  a  draught  that  was 
out  of  my  reach.  I  shouldn't  have  kept 
my  promise  not  to  write  you  another  day 
after  I  had  been  here  this  time  and  heard — 
what  I  have  heard,  Rachel." 

She  did  not  answer.  Her  face  was  turned 
away;  she  was  very  still.  Only  a  slightly 
quickened  breathing,  of  which  he  was  barely 


298  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

conscious,  betrayed  to  him  that  this  was  not 
listening  of  an  ordinary  sort. 

"  I  shouldn't  have  said  anything  could 
make  any  difference  with  my  feeling,  to 
strengthen  it,"  he  went  on  very  quietly, 
after  a  while,  "but  I  find  it  has.  I  don't 
try  to  explain  it  to  myself,  except  by  the 
one  thing  I  am  sure  of — that  Alexander 
Huntington  was  the  noblest  and  most 
heroic  of  men,  and  deserved  to  the  full 
those  last  few  hours  of  knowledge  that  you 
had  taken  his  name.  And  I  can  under- 
stand your  loyalty  to  him  in  wishing  to 
wear  it  these  three  years.  But,  Rachel,  I 
can't  let  you  wear  it  any  longer." 

She  turned  her  face  a  shade  farther  away. 

"I  am  leaving  to-morrow  night  for 
another  year's  absence."  He  spoke  as 
simply  as  if  he  were  discussing  the  most 
ordinary  of  subjects.  "  So  I  can  see  but  one 
thing  to  do,  and  that  is— 

He  got  up  and  came  around  behind  her, 
standing  in  the  shadow  of  the  vines,  where 
the  light  did  not  touch  him — "  and  that  is, 
to  take  you  with  me." 

He  had  not  said  it  doubtfully,  although 
his  inflection  was  very  gentle.  She  moved 
quickly,  startled 


A  High-Handed  Affair  299 


•'Doctor  Barnes- 


"  Yes,  I'm  ready  for  them.  You  can't 
raise  an  objection  that  I'm  not  ready  for, 
not  one  that  I  can't  meet — except  one. 
And  that  you  can't  raise,  Rachel." 

She  was  silent,  the  words  upon  her  lips 
held  in  check  by  this  last  bold  declaration. 

"You  see  you  can't,  being  truthful," 
he  said,  smiling  a  little.  "  If  I  seem  too 
confident,  forgive  me;  but  I've  carried 
with  me  all  these  years  that  one  look,  when 
you  forgot  to  veil  your  eyes  away  from 
me  as  you  always  had — and  always  have 
since  then.  When  I  get  that  look  from 

you  again -"  He  paused,  drawing  a 

long  breath.  "  I  don't  dare  dream  of  it. 
Rachel,  will  you  go? " 

She  tried  to  glance  at  him,  and  managed 
it,  but  no  higher  than  his  shoulders. 

"I  am  engaged  to  take  the  training  for 

nurses  at  the  Larchmont  Memorial " 

she  began. 

But  he  interrupted  her  joyfully.  "You 
don't  say,  'I  don't  love  you' — it's 
only,  'I  was  intending  to  be  a  nurse.'  I 
told  you  you  couldn't  say  it,  because  it 
isn't  true.  You  do  love  me,  Rachel.  Tell 
me  so." 


300  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

Her  hurried  breathing  was  plainly  per- 
ceptible now.  She  rose  quickly,  as  if  she 
could  not  bear  the  telltale  lamplight  upon 
her  face  any  longer,  and  went  hurriedly 
across  the  porch  and  down  upon  the  lawn, 
into  the  starlight.  He  followed  her,  his 
pulses  bounding. 

"Oh,  give  up  to  me,"  he  said  in  her  ear, 
his  own  breath  coming  fast.  "You've 
been  fighting  it  four  years  now — it's  no  use. 
We  were  made  for  each  other,  and  we've 
known  it  from  the  first.  You  stood  hero- 
ically by  your  first  promise — you  gave  him 
all  you  could;  but  that's  all  over.  You 
don't  have  to  be  true  to  anything  or  any- 
body now  but  me.  Give  up,  dear,  and  let 
me  know  what  it  feels  like  to  have  you  pull 
a  man  toward  you  instead  of  pushing  him 
away." 

They  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  orchard 
— in  deep  shadow;  and  she  stopped. 

"I  don't  know  what  I  came  down  here 
for,"  she  said,  in  confusion. 

"I  do;  you  were  running  away.  It's 
your  instinct  to  run  away — I  love  you  for 
it — it's  what  first  made  me  want  to  follow. 
But  I  can't  stand  your  running  away  much 
longer.  Look,  Rachel,  can  you  see?  I'm 


A  High-Handed  Affair  301 

holding   out   my    arms.     Rachel — I    can't 

wait- " 

For  an  instant  longer  she  held  out,  while 
he  stood  silent,  holding  himself  that  he 
might  have  the  long-dreamed-of  joy  of  re- 
ceiving her  surrender.  Then,  all  at  once, 
he  realised  that  it  had  been  worth  all  his 
days  of  patient  and  impatient  waiting,  for 
turning  to  him  at  last  she  gave  herself, 
with  the  abandon  such  natures  are  capable 
of  showing  when  they  yield  after  long 
resistance,  into  the  arms  which  closed 
hungrily  around  her. 

If  anybody  could  have  told  what  hap- 
pened during  the  next  twenty-four  hours  it 
would  have  been  Juliet,  for  it  was  she  who 
took  the  helm  of  affairs.  She  lay  awake 
half  the  night,  or  what  there  was  left  of  it 
after  the  doctor  had  come  back  with  Rachel 
and  told  his  friends  what  had  happened  and 
what  was  yet  to  happen,  planning  to  make 
the  hasty  wedding  as  ideal  as  might  be. 
She  was  a  wonderful  planner,  and  a  most 
energetic  and  enthusiastic  young  matron 
as  well,  so  by  five  in  the  afternoon  she  had 
accomplished  all  that  had  seemed  to  her 
good.  Rachel's  part  was  only  to  see  that 


302  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

her  trunk  was  packed,  her  explanations 
offered  and  good-byes  said,  and  her  choice 
made  of  several  exquisite  white  gowns  which 
Juliet  had  had  sent  out  from  town. 

"But  I  can't  be  married  in  white,  Mrs. 
Robeson,"  she  had  said  protestingly  when 
Juliet  had  opened  the  boxes. 

"  Yes,  you  can — and  must.  This  is  your 
only  bridal,  dear.  The  other — you  know 
that  was  only  what  the  doctor  said  of  it 
once — 'your  hand  in  his  to  the  last' — the 
hand  of  a  friend.  But  this — isn't  this 
different?" 

Rachel    had    turned    away    her    face. 
'  Yes,    this  is  different,"  she  had  owned. 
"But- 

"  He  asked  me  to  beg  you  for  him  to  have 
it  so,"  Juliet  urged,  and  Rachel  was  silent. 
So  the  simplest  of  the  white  frocks  it  was, 
and  in  it  Rachel  looked  as  Juliet  had  meant 
she  should. 

Only  Judith  and  Wayne  Carey  were 
asked  down  to  see  them  married.  To 
humour  the  doctor  the  ceremony  was 
performed  in  the  orchard,  near  the  entrance 
to  the  willow  path.  The  time  afterward 
was  short,  and  before  she  knew  it  Julkt  was 
bidding  the  two  good-bye. 


A  High-Handed  Affair  303 

"I've  got  her,"  said  the  doctor,  looking 
from  Juliet  to  Rachel,  who  stood  at  his  side. 
"  She's  mine — all  mine.  I  have  to  keep 
saying  it  over  and  over  to  make  sure." 

"For  your  comfort,"  answered  Juliet, 
smiling  at  them  both,  "I'll  tell  you  that  she 
looks  as  if  she  were  yours." 

"Does  she?"  he  cried,  laughing  happily. 
"  How  does  she  look  ? "  He  turned  and  sur- 
veyed her.  "She  looks  very  proud  and 
sweet  and  still — she's  always  been  those 
things — and  very  beautiful — more  beautiful 
than  ever  before.  But  do  you  think  she 
really  looks  as  if  she  were  mine?  Tell  me 
how." 

Juliet  turned  from  him,  big  and  eager  like 
a  boy,  to  his  bride,  "proud  and  sweet  and 
still,"  as  he  had  said.  "I've  never  seen 
Rachel  look  absolutely  happy  before,"  she 
told  him.  "  There's  always  been  a  bit  of  a 
shadow.  But  now — look  down  into  her 
eyes,  Roger;  there's  no  shadow  there 
now." 

But  when  he  would  have  looked  Rachel's 
lashes  fell.  "Not  yet?  By-and-by  then, 
Rachel,"  he  whispered.  Then  he  turned  to 
Juliet — and  Anthony,  who  had  come  up  to 
stand  beside  her. 


304  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

"If  it  hadn't  been  for  you  and  your 
home-making  this  day  would  never  have 
come  for  me,"  he  said.  "You  have  been 
good  friends  and  true,  to  us  both.  Let  us 
keep  you  so — and  good-bye." 


XXIX. — JULIET   PROVES   HERSELF   STILL 

INDIFFERENT 

On  a  July  evening,  a  month  later,  Cath- 
cart  and  a  great  roll  of  architects'  paper 
arrived  on  the  Robeson  porch.  For  an 
hour  Juliet  looked  and  listened,  while 
Anthony,  as  he  had  promised,  said  not  a 
word  to  bias  her  decision.  Cathcart  laid 
before  her  plans  for  a  new  house  which 
were — even  Anthony  could  but  admit  to 
himself — beyond  praise.  From  every  stand- 
point— the  artistic,  the  domestic,  the  prac- 
tical, even  the  economical,  so  far  as  the 
modern  architect  understands  the  meaning 
of  the  word — the  plans  were  ideal.  Juliet 
studied  them  absorbedly,  showing  plainly 
her  appreciation  of  them. 

"  It  would  be  a  beautiful  home,"  she  said 
at  length.  "  I  can  think  of  nothing  more 
perfect  than  such  a  house." 

Cathcart  looked  triumphant.  Without 
glancing  at  Anthony  he  produced  another 
set  of  plans. 

"Just  to  please  myself,  Mrs.  Robeson," 
3°5 


306  The  Indifference  of  Juliet 

he  announced,  "  I  have  spent  some  interest- 
ing hours  in  trying  to  show  what  could  be 
done  with  this  old  house,  should  any  one 
care  to  lay  out  a  reasonable  sum  upon  it. 
Frankly,  old  houses  never  repay  much  ex- 
penditure of  money,  yet  there  is  a  certain 
satisfaction  in  working  out  the  details  of 
restoration  and  improvement  which  makes 
interesting  study.  Purely  as  a  matter  of  that 
sort  I  have  fancied  such  extensions  as  these. ' ' 

He  laid  the  plans  before  her.  Juliet 
looked,  bent  over  them,  cried  out  with  de- 
light, and  called  upon  Anthony  to  join  her. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Cathcart,"  she  said  eagerly, 
"  before  you  proved  yourself  an  exceedingly 
fine  architect;  but  now  you  show  yourself 
a  master.  To  make  this  of  the  old  house- 
why,  it's  far  the  higher  art." 

Anthony  glanced,  laughing,  across  at 
Cathcart,  whose  face  had  fallen  so  pro- 
nouncedly that  Juliet  would  have  seen  it 
if  she  had  been  observing.  But  she  was  too 
absorbed  in  the  new  plans. 

"If  we  could  do  this,"  she  was  saying, 
"  it  would  satisfy  my  best  ideals  of  a  perma- 
nent home." 

"But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Robeson,"  stam- 
mered the  man  of  castles,  "consider  the 


Juliet  Proves  Herself  Still  Indifferent     307 

location  —  the  neighbourhood  —  the  rural 
character  of  the  surroundings." 

"I  do,"  she  answered,  still  studying  the 
plans.  "  I  love  them  all — and  the  old  home 
most  of  all.  Ever  since  I  knew"— how 
had  she  known?  they  wondered — "that  a 
change  of  houses  was  a  possible  thing  for  us 
I  have  been  homesick  in  anticipation  of  a 
change  I  couldn't  bear  to  think  of.  Yet  I 
wondered  if  we  ought  to  go.  But  if  you  can 
make  this  of  the  old  home " 

She  lifted  to  her  husband  an  enthusiastic 
face.  His  eyes  met  hers  in  a  long  look  in 
which  each  read  deep  into  the  mind  of  the 
other.  Then  Anthony  Robeson,  like  a  man 
who  hears  precisely  what  he  most  wants  to 
hear,  turned  smiling  to  Cathcart. 

"I  think  you've  lost,  Steve,"  he  said. 


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